


I Want To Love You (But I Better Not Touch)

by autumn_archer27



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha Jensen Ackles, Alpha Misha Collins, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Incest, M/M, Minor Character Death, Omega Jared Padalecki, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 11:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 60,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15363978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumn_archer27/pseuds/autumn_archer27
Summary: When Omega-Prince Jared of secretive Alyonis travels to decadent Val Deauvin on a diplomatic mission, the last thing he expects is to fall in love - and with not one but two alphas. Prince Jensen of Val Deauvin and Prince Misha of wintry Montisierre (and Ward of Val Deauvin) are the last people that Jared should want to mate. As he spends more time with the alphas, though, two questions begin to emerge:One, is it possible to have two mates?And two, is there any way that Jared's going to be able to keep them?As political forces plot against them and their three kingdoms prepare for the possibility of war, Jensen, Jared, and Misha must decide what they're willing to give up to be together - while the true enemy lurks in the shadows and may be someone they never suspected...(Part One)





	1. Chapter 1

“I thought that I might find you down here.”  

 

Omega-Prince Jared of Alyonis jumped and glanced around guiltily, meeting his mother’s amused eyes. Thankfully, she only smiled at him, though that smile faded as she took in his rumpled clothing.

 

“Have you been here all night?” she asked.

 

Once, she would have been annoyed, reminding him that he had a perfectly good bed to sleep in, and the most beautiful altar in the kingdom positioned nearby. There was no need for him to spend hours on his knees on a cold stone floor, eyes rolling back in his head as he tried to catch the Goddess’ attention through fervent prayer. Displays like that tended to make his mother uncomfortable – it was too much of a reminder of the old ways that she’d tried so hard to abolish.

 

Now, though, Alpha-Queen Samantha simply sounded sad. If she had thought there was a chance that it would bring her eldest son back, she would have been on her knees beside him.

 

“I didn’t stay awake all night,” Jared said, though the hoarseness in his voice made clear that he hadn’t had a restful sleep all the same. “It just seemed… right to spend my last night here.”

 

His mother moved closer to him. When he didn’t object, she reached out, and helped raise him to his feet. Jared had been the tallest in his family for over a year now, but it still sometimes gave him a jolt to look down at someone that had once seemed almost mythical to him. When she had flung open the door and ran to him after their three-year separation, six-year-old Jared had looked up in awe at this alpha with polished armour and a long blonde braid and thought that she was the Goddess Herself in human form. He hadn’t recognised his own sire.

 

Fourteen years on, and he suspected that still cut his mother deeply, more so than any battle wound she had ever received.

 

“It wasn’t your last night here,” his mother was saying, though with too much forced cheerfulness to seem convincing. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

 

How Jared wished that were true! The three months he was scheduled to spend in Val Deauvin stretched endlessly and unforgivingly ahead of him. He’d never spent so much time apart from his entire family… or travelled so far away. Despite all that had happened, he felt a momentary frisson of excitement. Omegas from his kingdom, especially royal ones, were rarely allowed to leave their homeland. Perhaps a new age was dawning, with Jared the one to help pioneer the way…

 

But he could never forget why this honour had fallen on him, and it killed any spark of eagerness simmering inside of him.

 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” his mother said hesitantly, blue eyes scarcely blinking as she studied him. Jared’s younger brother, Jake, had been the only one to inherit those eyes, while Jared’s twin and other half Milo was as dark-haired and dark-eyed as their father. Jared too had that dark hair, but where his eyes came from, as everyone was always saying, was a mystery. “You know it’s not too late to do that.”

 

Jared smiled in spite of himself. “I think the day that I’m due to leave might be too late.”

 

“Nonsense! If you wish to remain here, then here you’ll remain. The southerners will understand –”

 

“No, they won’t.” Jared didn’t know much about their southern neighbours, a consequence of his kingdom’s long tradition of isolating itself from both the north and the south, but he knew that to be true. “They’ll take offence, and it will only bind them more tightly to the northerners. I have to go. Unless…?” he couldn’t help sounding hopeful, though he knew it was pointless.

 

His mother merely shook her head. He hadn’t expected otherwise. If Milo had returned in the night, as Jared had been desperately praying that he would, his mother wouldn’t have waited until now to tell him.

 

Jared squared his shoulders. _When_ Milo returned, he’d want to know what had come of the diplomatic trip he’d spent months training for. Jared was determined to tell him that it had been a resounding success – that Jared had done as well as Milo himself would have.

 

Even if he had seen it as a duty first and foremost, Milo had been looking forward to going to the south, hadn’t he? Very little had appeared to make his brother happy recently, but Jared had thought the trip that would have been as impossible to their ancestors as flying to the moon had meant _something_. Maybe he didn’t know Milo as well as he thought he did. Perhaps he never had.

 

“You’ll write to me when I’m in the south?” he couldn’t help asking, even though his mother had confirmed this dozens of times. “You’ll let me know the second there’s any change?”

 

“I’ll carry parchment, ink, and a messenger bird around with me at all times,” his mother promised. She hugged him tightly. Unlike regents before her, she’d never cared about being too sentimental with her children and appearing ‘un-alpha,’ but she felt particularly vulnerable in that moment.

 

“If anyone’s worthy to succeed Milo,” she murmured in his ear, “it’s you.”

 

Jared pulled away, feeling like his veins were full of ice. _She just means the trip to the south,_ he told himself. _She doesn’t mean…_ _anything else._ He forced a smile. “I’ll do my best to make him proud.”

 

“You do that without trying.”

 

Jared’s laugh was genuine. A mere ten minutes separated them, but it had never stopped Milo from being as protective as their mother herself was, or from being as thrilled with Jared’s accomplishments as Milo would have been with his own.

 

Jared missed him. Somehow, although he would never say it aloud, he felt as though he would die from the pain of it. Surely, he wasn’t destined to spend the rest of his life feeling like this? Milo was his twin. If he was dead, Jared would know. They had entered the world together, and they would leave it in the same way. That meant there was still hope. Milo was out there… somewhere.

 

“Have you visited the Oracle?”

 

Jared stared at his mother, heart sinking. He had hoped she would forget. He considered lying, but his conscience gave him a sharp nudge, and he reluctantly confessed, “Not yet.”

 

“That’s why I was looking for you.” His mother took him by the arm and began to guide him out of the small chapel. Jared cast one last longing glance over his shoulder. It wasn’t the most beautiful place of worship in this palace, or the most comfortable, but it was the one where he felt most connected to the Goddess. Still, there was no point lingering now. He’d made his offering. All that was left to do was hope She would accept it. “Jake’s volunteered to go with you.”

 

Jared glanced at his mother in surprise. “And you approve?” he asked hesitantly.

 

His mother looked equally startled. “It’s not my decision, sweetheart – it’s yours. Do you want him there? Then of course he should go. If not, we’ll think of something tactful to say.”

 

Jared covered her hand with his and squeezed gratefully. Had his father been here, Jared would have been expected to take Jake with him, regardless of his own feelings. Jeff had never been secretive about the fact that Jake was his favourite. 

 

Did Jared want Jake along? He pondered this, trying to ignore how much his entire body rebelled at the thought of going to see the Oracle. As omega siblings, Jared and Jake were expected to be close, but the fact that Milo was Jared’s twin generally meant that others accepted Jared being closer to his alpha brother than to his omega one. Jake was three years younger – a lifetime, in Milo’s opinion – and, while Jared of course loved him, he didn’t always particularly like him. Jake’s mood swings put Milo’s to shame, and, unlike their oldest brother, Jake could never be cajoled out of a bad temper. It would likely be less stressful going by himself to the Oracle.

 

But… Jake was grieving too. _Not as much as_ me, a petty part of Jared couldn’t help thinking, _because Milo’s_ my _twin_ , but grieving all the same. He would know as well as Jared that Milo should have been the one to visit the Oracle. If Jake hoped to make it easier for Jared, even though the only one who could do that was the one responsible for Jared having to visit in the first place, then Jared didn’t want to hurt his little brother’s feelings.

 

He wouldn’t abandon his little brother in the way that he himself had been abandoned.  

 

*

 

Though Jared knew this palace like the back of his hand, having grown up here, it still took him longer than it should have to realize his mother was taking him directly to the Oracle.

 

“Shouldn’t I bathe first?” he asked, slowing.

 

His mother shook her head. “Sunrise is the most opportune time.”

 

Jared hadn’t known that. His mother had taken him and Milo to the Oracle as newborns, but he didn’t remember anything about it. He hadn’t expected to return until he was holding his own children in his arms. 

 

Some of his anxiety must have shown on his face, because his mother smiled at him gently, and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry – going after an overnight vigil will be seen as far more respectful than appearing squeaky clean.” 

 

That hadn’t been his concern, but he didn’t correct her.

 

They reached the tapestry depicting the wedding of the very first First Alpha and First Omega, with their beta sibling standing demurely to one side, smiling delightedly. His mother drew it aside and gestured for Jared to go first. He did so cautiously, blinking when he saw that the torches were already lit down the spiral staircase. He wondered if his mother had already been here, or if they always burned, but couldn’t quite summon up the energy to find out. It should have been Milo’s question to ask.

 

Reaching the bottom, Jared stared ahead at the heavy iron portcullis. He was so transfixed by it that it took him a moment to realise he was not alone.

 

“You’re late.”

 

Turning to one side, Jared saw Jake lounging against the wall. Unlike Jared, he was dressed in his best robes, but nothing could disguise the shadows under his eyes or the tense shape his mouth seemed to permanently assume.

 

Jared smiled at him, suddenly glad of his company. “I’m the eldest here. I’m never late – anyone younger is just early.”

 

Jake’s eyes glimmered back, and he straightened up. The saying had been a favourite of Milo’s, and, for once, it felt comforting to speak the familiar words, and to invoke Milo’s presence here.  

 

Their mother cleared her throat as she appeared behind Jared. “Jake…?” she said pointedly.

 

“Oh, right.” Jake’s eyes dulled. “Do you want me to come with you? I won’t be offended if you say no.” The last sentence was uttered so quickly that Jared had to fight back a smile. Jake never had been half as good at lying as Milo.

 

“I’d be honoured,” he said warmly, and was rewarded with a tiny smile in return. “If you’re sure you want to –”

 

Jake rolled his eyes, some of his old spark returning. “I wouldn’t be skulking down here if I didn’t.” He stepped forward and held out his hand. It was a surprisingly alpha gesture. “Shall we?”

 

Jared accepted slowly and looked back at their mother.

 

She smiled encouragingly. “I’ll be right here.”

 

Jared returned his gaze to the circular portcullis. It was only when he caught sight of Jake’s flinch that he realised he was squeezing too tightly and forced himself to relax his hold.

 

“I seek permission to enter the domain of the Oracle.”

 

To Jared’s relief, his words were strong and clear. He’d been mildly afraid that he might stutter. He expected a delay, but the portcullis rose almost immediately, as though it had been waiting for him. It was not a comforting thought.

 

Jake glanced at him suddenly. “Have you had breakfast?”

 

It was such an incongruous question that it took Jared a moment to answer. “You know it’s better not to eat before this.”

 

Jake’s eyes narrowed, suggesting that he knew that was not Jared’s true reason for forgoing food, but in the end, he let it slide. Jared finally realised that it was up to him to make the first move. He’d been in Milo’s shadow for so long…

 

He took a deep breath and stepped inside, still clutching Jake’s hand.

 

“May the Goddess be with you,” their mother called softly. “I’ll be right here.”

 

The words soothed Jared, but he could not bring himself to look back. If he did, he wasn’t sure he could go on.

 

Down and down they stepped, their way lit by torches that burned brightly. Though it had been years since anyone from Jared’s family had been down here, there was no sign of dust. He wondered who cleaned it. Eventually, the silence grew so eerie that he had to break it.

 

“Do you remember this?”

 

“Do you?” Jake responded, so quickly that Jared knew he was nervous too. Jake had always been utterly fearless – his crowning moment had been when he entered a jousting competition several years ago, disguised as an alpha, and emerged the victor. Knowing that this unnerved him too was comforting.

 

“I was a baby when I was last here. You were walking and talking.”

 

“I was three, Jared,” Jake huffed. “What do you remember from when you were three?”

 

All too much as it happened, but Jared decided not to respond. It was a shock when they turned a corner and found two cloaked figures standing before them, one in white and one in black, with their raised staffs blocking the tunnel behind them.

 

Jared looked between them. _The Light Order stands to the left,_ he remembered, _while the Dark Order stands to the right._ Of course, from their perspective, it was the opposite. He’d never realised that before – it was so rare to see them in this position.

 

Jared smiled tentatively. “Hello. I’m Omega-Prince Jared, and this is my brother, Omega-Prince Jake. We seek permission to –”

 

“We know why you are here,” the figures intoned together. Their voices were raspy, as though they had not been used in years, and it was impossible to tell whether they were male or female. More unnervingly, Jared had no idea whether they were alpha, beta, or omega. “Alone you may enter, but your brother cannot accompany you. Your paths are not entwined.”

 

Jared frowned. He was sure that previous omega siblings had been allowed to enter together, regardless of what route their “paths” took. Turning back to Jake, he raised his eyebrows questioningly. If Jake wished him to view that as an insult and respond accordingly, he would.

 

Jake gazed back. He never had been as good at reading Jared’s expression as Milo had, but of course it wasn’t fair to compare them. Yet, with Milo’s absence, Jared seemed to be doing it more and more.

 

“Go ahead,” Jake said softly. He squeezed Jared’s hand and finally let go. “I’ll wait here.”

 

Jared glanced uncertainly at the two figures, who hadn’t moved. He felt uneasy about leaving Jake here, though both Orders had pledged their loyalty to the royal family centuries ago, and proved it only fourteen years ago.

 

“Go,” Jake said again, with a slight laugh in his voice, as though to scold Jared for his paranoia.

 

Jared smiled sheepishly and surprised even himself by stepping forward for a hug. Jake wasn’t Milo, but then, neither was Jared. “Thank you,” he said, but even he wasn’t sure what he was thanking his brother for. He lowered his voice, though he suspected the two figures would still know what he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

Jake suddenly seized hold of him again. “Promise me you’ll return,” he said in a rush, and Jared knew that he wasn’t talking about the Oracle.

 

“I promise. Even if I have to swim the entire way.”

 

Finally, Jake cracked a small smile. “Don’t do that – I heard the south has alpha-eating sharks.”

 

“Well, I’m not an alpha, so I’ll be fine.”

 

They shared the knowing looks of two omegas in an alpha-dominated world.

 

“Are you ready?” the figures asked, still in perfect unison.

 

Jared squared his shoulders. “I am.”  

 

The staffs parted. Jared stepped forward. He was prepared for another long, twisting path, but this one led straight ahead, and only the burning in his thighs told him it was angled downwards. He walked on, his mind blank. All that mattered was here and now.

 

The tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern, but Jared’s path ended abruptly. He stood where he was, gazing ahead. How many of his ancestors had stood in this exact spot? How many of his descendants would do the same?

_Ah, Jared_ , a voice whispered warmly in his head. _I have been waiting many years for this._

 

Even knowing what to expect, Jared still stepped back, his lips parting in a gasp, when the golden dragon suddenly appeared before him, wings flapping lazily.  

 

Jared swallowed. She was large enough that he’d be the equivalent of a grape to her, hardly a filling meal, but there was still a part of him that wanted to flee.

_I’m glad. It’s the ones that don’t fear me that I worry about. They’re almost exclusively alphas, though._

 

“You can understand me without me speaking, can’t you?” Even hearing his own hesitant voice was better than the silence that had existed before.

 

The dragon’s mouth twitched, almost as though she was smiling. _Of course. I see all, know all – past, present, and future. A tiny human mind is not much of a mystery._

 

Jared swallowed. “Then you know why I’m here.”

_I wish to hear you said it aloud._

 

“I… I intend to journey to Val Deauvin, to learn more about our neighbours in the hopes of binding our countries more closely together. I… I want to prevent a war.”

_And what would you give to ensure such a desire was successful?_

 

Jared started. He’d always been taught that offerings were an insult. “I haven’t –”

_No, no. I don’t mean here and now._ The voice was still surprisingly patient. _I mean in the future. What would you give? What matters most to you?_

 

Jared hesitated. He thought of all that he enjoyed due to an accident of birth – hot baths whenever he wished, clean water, plentiful food, beautiful clothing (frequently dyed red to signify his royal status), carvings of the Goddess by the most gifted craftsmen-and-women in the kingdom, all the luxuries that others would kill for… But, as always, it was Milo’s face that came to mind.

_Would you sacrifice something so precious for the good of the kingdom? If it would bind you to both Val Deauvin and Montisierre, if it would guarantee your people’s safety and existence forever… what would you give, Jared?_

 

Milo suddenly seemed close. _Are you crazy?_ Jared could imagine him saying. _All that for just my life? Take the deal and run, before she changes her mind!_

 

“I would give much to ensure that,” Jared said steadily, thinking of Jake, his mother, his cousins Justin and Adrianne, his Aunt Amy… his father. He thought of his people, of his kingdom’s lakes and mountains, and of his Goddess who created it all. “An alliance with just one of our neighbours would be a miracle, an alliance with both would be… But I could not give my brother.”

_You are honest. Perhaps too much so._

 

Jared shrugged helplessly. Suddenly, even just standing was taking all of his strength. “I love him.”

_And he loves you._ Jared’s gaze flew to the dragon’s amber eyes, heart beating furiously as he noted the present tense. _Have faith, Jared. All that you dream of is possible, but all that you fear can also come true. I have listened to your words and found them worthy. You have my blessing._

 

Jared closed his eyes and breathed out shakily. Somehow, impossibly, he’d done it.

_Thank you,_ he thought weakly. _Thank you._

_Do not thank me yet. You may once again face a choice between what you love most and the future of your kingdom. Choose wisely._

_I’d choose Milo above everything,_ Jared thought, before he could stop himself. He looked anxiously at the dragon, wondering if he was about to be the first of his line to have the Oracle’s blessing revoked.

_There is something else._

 

“Yes?” Again, the urge to flee was strong. The passageway he’d used to enter was small. The dragon could not follow him, but her fire certainly could, so Jared reluctantly held his ground.

 

The dragon turned her head slightly, away from Jared. He watched her, his anxiety mounting with every second that passed. Then, a blur of colour appeared, emitting tiny shrieks, and Jared gasped as he finally realized what he was seeing.

_Yes, this is my litter._ If Jared had thought the Oracle sounded fond before, it was nothing to how she sounded now. His eyes followed the baby dragons frantically as they swooped and tussled with one another. There seemed to be seven of them, all different colours, but they moved so quickly it was hard to be sure. He couldn’t help being particularly captivated by one that was a little bigger than the others, her body a deep purple. _As you can imagine, they keep me busy._

 

“I… thank you,” Jared managed finally. It was woefully inadequate, but what could he say? How many millions of people all across the three kingdoms had lived and died, and would live or die, without ever getting to see something like this? “May the Goddess smile on them,” he remembered to add, though he wasn’t sure the blessing for human babies was appropriate in this instance.

_Thank you, Jared. I certainly hope that She will. In fact, you can help with that._

 

“Me?”

_You’ve noticed my Myrtle._

 

Jared’s gaze moved again to the purple dragon, who’d stopped chasing her siblings, and was now watching him, wings flapping lazily as she hovered mid-air.

_Yes, that’s her. I want her to go with you to Val Deauvin, and beyond_. Jared’s lips parted in a silent gasp. _She is the bravest and cleverest of my litter, and all she wants is to explore._

 

“I… I…” Jared couldn’t think of the words to express his gratitude and pleasure, wasn’t even sure that such words existed, but the dragon seemed pleased all the same.

_Look after her. She is not as wise as she thinks she is._

 

“I’ll guard her with my life. Thank you,” Jared managed finally.

_Oh, no, young princeling. Your life will be sacrificed for a much bigger cause. Just bring her home to me, and I’ll be satisfied._

 

Jared swallowed. He wasn’t sure what to make of the middle sentence, but sensed that he couldn’t ask for more details. This was already more than the dragon had spoken to any of them in years – as far as Jared knew, anyway. Perhaps his mother had shared more conversations than she’d revealed to him.

 

He looked at the Oracle. Her eyes gleamed at him, but she said nothing.

 

“Thank you,” he said again, softly.

_May the Goddess be with you, Jared. You’ll need Her presence more than any First Omega before you._

 

“But I’m not –”

 

The Oracle unfurled her great golden wings and soared away, her litter following, though none quite so gracefully. All except Myrtle, who suddenly hurled herself towards him with the speed of an arrow, landing on his shoulder and digging in with hard little talons.

 

Jared looked into her eyes. They were the same amber as her mother’s. Though it was unwise to share prolonged eye contact with a dragon as close as this, he felt none of the expected dizziness.

 

Myrtle made a chirruping noise, almost as though she was laughing. _I can’t hypnotise you. We’re bonded now._

 

“Bonded?”

_My mother was right about the stupidity of humans._

 

Jared surprised himself by laughing too. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said, daring to reach out and stroke her head with one finger. She made a noise almost like a purr, nuzzling into his touch. “I’ve never been this close to a dragon before.”

_I’ve never been this close to a human either. You really do look strange without wings. No matter. When do we leave, First Omega?_

 

“I’m not the First Omega,” Jared said quickly, because for once it seemed the easier question to address. “That title will go to my brother’s mate.”

 

The dragon blinked long eyelashes at him. There was a long pause. _May I call you Jared then?_

 

“Yes,” Jared said firmly, smiling with relief. “Just Jared is fine.”

_So… when do we leave, Jared?_

_The south expects Milo,_ Jared thought, though he was under no delusion that Myrtle wouldn’t hear what he was saying, _and instead they’re getting his omega brother and a dragon. What could go wrong?_

*

 

An hour later, Jared was luxuriating in the bathtub, while Myrtle flapped eager circuits around his room. He’d wondered at first if this was a sign of boredom, but she’d assured him that she was content to examine all the “odd human knick-knacks” from the ceiling. Personally, he thought she was just showing off how beautiful she was from every possible angle.

 

When Jared had returned from the Oracle’s cave, Jake had only seen him at first, and had broken into a relieved smile. The greeting died on his lips, though, when he caught sight of Myrtle. As for their mother’s reaction… Jared had never actually seen her speechless. He’d half-turned to laugh with Milo about it, before he remembered that Milo wasn’t by his side anymore.

 

Still, he couldn’t deny that being given a baby dragon was a balm to his aching heart. After asking to hear the story three times, his mother had left to meet with her advisors and the retinue that would accompany Jared. Though Jared understood that the extra security would be an issue, for him there was nothing to discuss. Myrtle was coming with him, and that was that.

 

He frowned to himself and rubbed some more of the sweet-smelling water over his arms. He wouldn’t have minded joining that meeting, but his mother hadn’t offered and Jared hadn’t quite dared to ask. Omegas weren’t expected to take an interest in practical matters – those were for alphas. An omega was supposed to give counsel only when asked, and to remain silent and pleasant when not.

 

Jared sighed. It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed his mind that he wasn’t a very _good_ omega.

 

Yet it was him the Oracle had entrusted Myrtle to, not anyone else.

 

He looked up at the dragon, smiling when he saw that her enthusiasm for her laps hadn’t lagged. “Are you doing okay there?”

_Fine. I can’t believe this whole room’s all for you!_

 

Jared’s smile faded. “Milo shares with me sometimes.” As children, no one had objected to their closeness – in fact, Jared thought most of the kingdom was probably soothed by the reassurance that another war between heirs was unlikely – but as they grew older, their parents had put more effort into trying to separate them. “It isn’t appropriate,” they’d said, over and over, no one quite willing to say, in defence or accusation, that Jared’s maternal grandparents had been siblings, and that Samantha marrying Jeff, an unrelated beta, made her the unusual one, rather than Milo and Jared wanting to share a bed. 

 

Nothing… _untoward_ was going on (Jared’s cheeks flamed at just the thought), but he couldn’t deny he slept better when Milo was close. His brother’s mere presence kept the nightmares away more effectively than any other method Jared had tried. Jared hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since Milo had left.

 

Jared looked again at Myrtle. “You’re not prophetic, are you?” he asked tentatively.

 

The dragon made a noise like a snort in his head. _Only golden dragons have that gift,_ she said, in a voice that implied it was obvious.

 

Jared blushed again. “Sorry.”

 

Myrtle flew another lap and then dove for his bed, landing with a slight bounce that Jared pretended not to notice. _I’m sorry. I know you want to find your brother, but I know no more than you do._

 

Jared curled one leg over the edge of the bathtub, the dripping water making its way towards the drain. “You know that he’s missing, though?”

_Your mother sought the advice of mine when he first vanished._

 

Jared’s eyes widened. He’d had no idea that his mother’s last visit to the Oracle had been so recent. “I take it you can’t tell me what your mother said?” he asked, only half-joking.

 

Myrtle bared her teeth. It took Jared a second to realize that she was grinning. _Sorry, Jared. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t – only an Oracle can reveal such matters._

 

Jared tilted his head to the side, amused when Myrtle mirrored the gesture. “And only a golden dragon can be an Oracle?”

_Correct._

 

“But… forgive me, none of your siblings seemed golden.”

 

Myrtle began to knead his covers like a cat, and then curled into a ball, her tail wrapped around her. She blinked big eyes at him.

 

Jared looked away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

_Curiosity can be appealing in a human. Secrecy, however, is a dragon’s prerogative._

 

“I understand.” Jared stepped out of the bath, reaching quickly for the towel that had been warmed by the fire. Perhaps it was foolish to be ashamed of his nakedness in front of a dragon, but he felt awkward all the same. Luckily, his room was angled in such a way that meant he could duck out of sight to get changed. The south was several weeks’ sail away, so the clothes he wore now were chosen for comfort. When he arrived, he would dress to display his kingdom’s wealth.

 

Jared sighed to himself. Milo would have been expected to do the same, but it still felt a little like his mother wished to flaunt having an omega child. Neither of the other two kingdoms could boast the same, though Jared wasn’t so sure they wanted to boast. For the south and especially the north, a trusty beta was far superior to a flighty omega.

 

The knock Jared had been waiting for sounded, and Tyler stepped into the room. The normally exuberant omega’s eyes were downcast, though, and he didn’t even appear to notice Myrtle, who was regarding him with interest.

 

“Tyler? What’s wrong?” Jared hadn’t known him long. Traditionally, omegas in Jared’s family never retained the same companion for any great length of time. It was supposedly done to avoid showing favour to any one particular noble family, who typically provided the companions (though sometimes they were chosen from more humble origins), but Jared had always held the suspicion it was done to prevent the omega becoming too close to any one person. Omegas were there for the alphas, after all. Even children weren’t supposed to disrupt that bond. While Jake had scorned that tradition, keeping the same companion for over five years now, Jared had kept to it, though he was never sure exactly why.

_I just haven’t met the right person yet,_ he told himself, over and over, but even he knew that wasn’t the full story.

 

Nevertheless, Jared knew this wasn’t typical behaviour for Tyler, and he was concerned.

 

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Tyler sounded utterly miserable, and he still hadn’t met Jared’s eyes. “I’m… I’m going into heat.”

 

Jared’s eyes widened. He moved closer, and got a whiff of the sugary-sweet scent that accompanied all omegas during that time. Though it was winter, and the palace still cool in spite of their many fires’ best attempts, Tyler’s skin was dewy with sweat.

 

Jared’s heart ached for him. While alphas had a tendency to talk about an omega’s heat as a mystical experience, omegas knew better. It wasn’t a twice-yearly convening with the Goddess – it was a week every six months of discomfort, even agony, when nothing felt right and your body frantically tried to convince you that now was an ideal time to get pregnant. Though an alpha’s touch was still the best means of getting through the heat, there were other ways to cope with it.

 

“You don’t need to be sorry for that,” Jared said, in his most gentle voice. “It’s not your fault. Do you have a plan to get through it?”

 

The more typical question was, _Do you have an alpha?_ but Jared had been trying to eliminate that, at least in his own vocabulary.

 

Tyler nodded meekly, a stark contrast to his usual merriment. “But… the ship…” he mumbled.

 

Jared swallowed. He’d almost forgotten about that. Though every omega was subtly different, with some having the worst of their heat at the beginning while others had to wait until the end, they all liked to be somewhere they regarded as _theirs_ while the heat lasted. There was no way he could take Tyler on the ship and force him to endure it there. 

 

“If you still want to come,” Jared said softly, “I’ll delay our departure. We can leave when you’re ready. But if you would rather stay here…”

 

Tyler was silent for a long moment. Finally, he met Jared’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he said miserably. “I’m not… brave like you.”

 

“You were brave to tell me the truth,” Jared said firmly. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone come who was unwilling. I hope your heat passes quickly, and thank you. Please take all the time you need to recover. Do you want me to organise an escort to take you home?”

 

Tyler shook his head. Jared suspected that meant he already had his own, and was relieved that the omega would soon be back in his own bed.

 

After Tyler left, though, Jared couldn’t help feeling sad. It wasn’t Tyler’s particular companionship he would miss, but the comment about Jared’s bravery had lodged in his heart like an arrow. Was it really bravery, or was Jared just missing a fundamental part of being an omega? Perhaps proper omegas were meant to stay at home and have no desire besides a mate and children.

_Do you really believe that?_

 

Myrtle had been silent for so long that her voice made Jared jump. He didn’t think Tyler had even noticed she was there. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t want to believe it, but… maybe there is something wrong with me.”

 

Myrtle stretched, flexing her talons. _I think you’re exactly who you’re meant to be._

 

Jared smiled gratefully at her, and reached for a small towel to squeeze the water out of his hair. Tyler usually helped with his hair – Jared had been dressing himself for years, as expected of omegas who were to remain ‘pure’ for their wedding nights – but it wasn’t a hardship to do it by himself. In some ways, Jared enjoyed the privacy.

 

Of course, Jared’s definition of privacy included Milo, but his brother wasn’t here.

 

Another knock on his door sounded. Assuming it was his mother, Jared called for her to come in, and then started when Adrianne appeared instead.

 

Thankfully, it was _just_ Adrianne, accompanied by neither her mother nor her brother. She smiled brightly at the sight of him, and then her gaze moved to Myrtle, and her mouth formed a soft ‘o’.

 

“It’s true, then,” she breathed. “Oh, Jared, I never doubted you, but this…”

 

“Who told you?” Jared winced at how suspicious he sounded, and was grateful when Adrianne didn’t appear to really hear him.

 

“Jake,” she answered, her eyes never moving from the dragon. “Does it have a name?”

_Does she?_

 

Myrtle sounded less than amused, and Jared reached over to give her a conciliatory stroke. “Myrtle, this is Adrianne, my cousin.” Technically, it was their mothers who were cousins, making Jared and Adrianne first cousins twice removed, but it had always seemed simpler to just call themselves cousins. Besides, Jared liked Adrianne – she was more like a sibling than anything else. “Adrianne, this is Myrtle.”

 

“She’s _beautiful_ ,” Adrianne exclaimed, and Myrtle relaxed under Jared’s hand, preening.

_I am, aren’t I?_

 

Jared smothered his grin. “She says thank you.”

 

If possible, Adrianne’s eyes got even wider. “You can _talk_ to her?”

 

“Of course.” Jared was about to ask about Adrianne’s memories of the Oracle, before remembering that she, like him, had gone as a baby, and there had been no cause for her to visit since.  

 

Adrianne sighed dreamily. “No one deserves this more than you.”

 

Jared’s guts clenched uncomfortably. “Well, she’s really Milo’s, obviously. As soon as he returns, I’ll –”

_You’ll do no such thing!_ Myrtle wriggled out of Jared’s hold with an indignant screech, shot into the air, and then changed her mind and plummeted back down, landing on his head.

 

 “Uh,” Adrianne said, with a smothered laugh, “I’m no expert, but I don’t think she agrees with that.”

 

Jared reached up, and petted her carefully. After a moment of ignoring him, Myrtle relaxed, and gave the back of his neck a sharp prod with one of her talons. 

_No more talk of me belonging to someone else, all right? I’m yours. You’re mine._

 

Resolving to quiz her in more depth about this later, Jared turned his attention to Adrianne. He smiled slightly, knowing how ridiculous he looked with a dragon perched on his head, but strangely unwilling to try to convince Myrtle to move.

 

Adrianne smiled back, but then the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. “I can’t believe you’re really going.”

 

“I have to,” Jared said, taking her hand while being careful not to dislodge Myrtle.

 

Adrianne gripped back fiercely, with none of the gentleness customarily associated with their kind. “It’s so far for an omega on their own…”

 

“I won’t be alone,” Jared reminded her. “I won’t be able to move without tripping over the bodyguards my mother’s chosen!”

 

Adrianne didn’t smile, as he had hoped. “My mother thinks you should take more.”

 

Jared was careful not to show his irritation. It was growing increasingly hard to remember how kind Princess Amy, Adrianne’s mother, had been to him in the past, given how difficult she had become lately. “If we do that, we run the risk of looking like an invading force. We need to convince the southerners that we want peace, not war.”

 

“But if we look weak, war will come to us anyway!”

 

Jared’s eyes narrowed. He knew whose words they were, and they weren’t Adrianne’s.

 

Myrtle suddenly shot up in the air and settled on the chandelier. It wobbled precariously, but held her weight. Jared breathed out.

_I’m not THAT heavy_.

 

“The chandelier wasn’t built with dragons in mind,” Jared said, while Adrianne looked between them with wide-eyed fascination.

_A serious flaw in the design._

 

“When we next need a new one, I’ll be sure to have it built to your specifications,” Jared said, amused, before realising that Myrtle had effectively smoothed over the awkwardness between him and Adrianne. Had that been on purpose?

 

When Adrianne looked away, Myrtle winked at him, a thoroughly disconcerting movement.

 

“Are you really going to take her to the south?” Adrianne asked.

 

Jared tensed. “That’s where the Oracle said she was supposed to go.”

 

Adrianne nodded. At least the Oracle still meant something to her, Jared thought bitterly, before reminding himself not to be unkind. It wasn’t surprising that Adrianne’s mother, an older omega, and her brother, an alpha, held such influence over her, and many people would say that family loyalty was an admirable trait to have.

 

Jared just wished he could count on her to be more loyal to _his_ side of the family.  

 

“Let me help with that,” Adrianne said suddenly, reaching out to take the towel from Jared’s hand and beginning to squeeze his hair herself.

 

“You don’t have to –”

 

“I want to.” Adrianne’s smile was sweet. “I don’t think Jake or Justin are going to grow their hair out before you return, so this is my last chance to play hairdressers.”

 

Jared laughed. As young omegas, that had been one of their favourite games, though their brothers had all been bored by it. Jared suspected that Jake might have been more amenable had Justin not made his disdain so clear – Jake always did idolise their older cousin too much – and Milo had always been sensitive to doing anything deemed not for alphas.

 

Sometimes, Jared thought, the rules governing acceptable alpha behaviour were even stricter than those governing acceptable omega behaviour.

 

“Shouldn’t your companion be here by now?” Adrianne asked. “What’s-his-name – Tyler?”

 

“Oh.” Jared’s smile faded. “He won’t be joining me,” he tried to say matter-of-factly, but Adrianne paused, eyes widening.

 

“What? Why not?”

 

Jared hesitated. Adrianne was an omega too, so Jared doubted that Tyler would object to her knowing he was in heat, but it still seemed like Tyler’s news to share. “It’s personal.”

 

“But who’s going to go to the south with you instead?”

 

“Er… I’m still figuring that out.” Even by Jared’s family’s standards, where siblings used to mate siblings, leaving outsiders with no chance of penetrating their innermost circle, Jared didn’t have many friends. Between Milo and Adrianne, and to a lesser extent Justin and Jake, he’d never felt like he needed them, and his mother had been eager to encourage close familial bonds given the nature of the war she’d just had to fight. For once, Jared wished he’d made more of an effort with omegas of his own age.

 

Adrianne resumed working on his hair. “You know,” she said, after a long pause, “ _I_ could come with you. If you wanted me to, that is.”

 

Jared stared at her, stunned. “Adrianne…” Seeing her face fall, he rushed to reassure her. “I would like that more than anything.”

 

Her eyes lighting up made the lie worth it. It wasn’t entirely a lie, Jared sought to convince himself. Adrianne’s company was always pleasant. It was just that it was one thing for him to go into the decadent southern kingdom, and another to bring his younger, gentler cousin with him.

 

And, if Jared was being entirely honest, a selfish part of him wanted to be the one that cemented the southerners’ opinion of his kingdom. It was a part of him he tried never to let see the light, a part of him that, even more shamefully, really did want to be called First Omega.

 

*

 

“I absolutely forbid it,” Princess Amy said firmly, folding her arms as she stared down her daughter. Both Adrianne and Justin were at least half a foot taller than their mother, but it didn’t seem to matter when Amy got that look in her eyes.  “Sending one omega is madness. Send two, and we might as well send them the keys to our kingdom while we’re at it.”

 

“It isn’t madness,” Jared protested, despite the warning look his own mother flashed him. Samantha had always been protective of her younger cousin. It wasn’t altogether dissimilar to Jared’s own relationship with Justin – or, at least, how their relationship used to be. “I’m the obvious choice to go after Milo. I speak the southern tongue almost as well as him –”

 

“Better, I would think,” his mother commented mildly. Jared ignored this too. This behaviour wasn’t exactly out of character for him, but he couldn’t deny that having Myrtle draped over his shoulders helped. He felt as though he could conquer all three kingdoms with her nearby.

 

“What does it matter that I’m an omega?”

 

Amy’s eyes narrowed even more. “The fact that you have to ask demonstrates just how unsuitable you are for this,” she said frostily. “If it was up to me –”

 

“But it isn’t,” Samantha said, still gentle. “I decide on Jared’s future… just as you decide on Adrianne’s.”

 

Amy relaxed slightly. Samantha always did know the right thing to say to her. Jared sometimes wondered if Amy was ever afraid that Samantha might overrule her when it came to Justin and Adrianne. As formidable as Amy was, she was still an omega, and their kingdom was accustomed to an alpha making decisions when it came to… well, pretty much everything, but especially raising children. Samantha was the main alpha influence in Jared’s cousins’ lives, but – as far as Jared knew – she’d always deferred to Amy.  

 

Adrianne still looked mutinous. “Jared said that I could go.”

 

“Perhaps on the next trip,” Samantha said quickly. “Once Jared’s made clear that we’re not the barbarians they think we are.”

 

Amy rolled her eyes, and looked directly at Jared. “Don’t let them convince you that you’re inferior,” she said, and her voice was almost tender. “Northern betas are always whores, and the southern alphas are little better. At least we’ve always treated our mates with respect.”

 

That wasn’t _always_ true, and entering into a polyamorous relationship that all parties consented to certainly didn’t make someone a “whore” in his opinion, but Jared held his tongue on both of these points. There was no point arguing with Amy. Justin had to get his stubbornness from somewhere, after all.

 

He felt a flicker of apprehension all the same. If his family found Val Deauvin and Montisierre’s ruling practices strange, what would those kingdoms think of his? He was certain that neither the northerners nor the southerners had ever mated siblings, and even cousins seemed frowned upon.

 

He didn’t really know for certain, though. His heart lightened slightly as he realised that he might be able to find out once and for all. His kingdom’s knowledge of both the north and the south was nowhere near as thorough as it needed to be… Perhaps Jared could be the one to change that.

_Or,_ a little voice added at the back of Jared’s head, _you could be the one to ruin their chances forever_.

 

Jared did his best to ignore that.

 

“If not me, then who’s going to go with Jared?” Adrianne was asking.

 

“Not Jake,” Samantha said, with a tiny gleam of amusement in her eyes. It faded as she turned to look seriously at Jared. “Who do you wish to accompany you?”

 

Jared hesitated. Names of omegas he knew, both nobility and not, ran through his mind, but none particularly jumped out. He swallowed, knowing this suggestion was going to be hard to sell. “Perhaps I could go alone and request a southern attendant when I arrive.”

 

“Hilarious,” his mother said, after a long moment. “Who do you actually want to go with you?”

 

“That’s what I want.”

 

“That’s ridiculous!” Amy huffed. Jared had expected her to contribute soon. “You’ll have a spy at your side at all times – even you can’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“Amy,” Samantha said, a little frostily, and Amy quieted.

 

“But if I could win them over to my side,” Jared said quickly, sensing his opportunity, “then _we’d_ have the spy.”

 

“I don’t know,” Samantha said, frowning. To give her credit, she did appear to be considering it. Her sense of fairness had always been one of Jared’s favourite things about her. “I don’t deny you have your charms, Jared,” she added, with a small smile, “but it would take considerable effort to sway a southerner to our side, and they may not tell you anything that you couldn’t work out for yourself.”

 

“They’ll know more about the southern and northern heirs than we do,” Jared said softly. “That could be… invaluable to us.”

 

Samantha gazed at him for a long moment. Just as Jared was about to give her his most wide-eyed, pleading expression, which had a high success rate with everyone in his family with the exception of his father, her eyes softened. “Very well. I’m sure the southerners will be more than happy to grant that request. I still think that having to guard what you say and do at all times might prove more tiring than it’s worth, but I trust your judgement here.”

 

Amy looked at her incredulously but said nothing. Jared stepped forward and hugged his mother, before she could change her mind.

 

“Thank you.” He put on his most charming smile. “Having help with the southern fashion will be a bonus, too.”

 

His mother laughed. “That’s true.”

 

It would be exhausting having to ensure his kingdom gleaned as much information as possible, while giving little away in return, but if he could pull it off…

 

Everyone was counting on him, Milo most of all. Jared wouldn’t fail him.

 

*

 

“Hey, Jay.” Justin’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Myrtle. “And hello purple dragon.”

 

He was the first one to talk to Myrtle rather than about her. Jared hoped this fact wouldn’t endear Justin to Myrtle any more than it endeared him to Jared. He closed his bedroom door, not bothering to hide his scowl.

 

“My name’s _Jared_.” Jared wasn’t sure why he kept repeating this – Justin had never listened to him any of the previous times. As a child, he’d loved the nickname, along with the fact that Justin was the only one to use it. Now, though, he longed for Justin to treat him as everyone else in their family did. “And you shouldn’t be in here.”

 

Justin, sitting on Jared’s bed, only leaned back further. “Why not? You know my door’s always open to you.”  

 

“Well, my door’s not open to you.” It had been in the past, however, so none of their guards would have batted an eyelid at Justin making his way in here. Jared hadn’t yet figured out how to remedy that. Telling them to bar Justin’s way would generate palace gossip for weeks, and might even make its way to the rest of the kingdom, and if Justin refused to obey…

_Good-looking, isn’t he?_ Myrtle murmured. _I bet he won’t look so pretty if I bite him._

 

Jared touched her head lightly, grateful for the support, but also a little nervous. Justin was still his cousin, after all. Once, Jared would have killed for him without question.

 

“Aww, why not?” Justin still had that same small smile on his face. It made Jared itch to wipe it off. “You always let Milo in here.”

 

“Milo’s my –”

 

“Twin, I know, I heard you the first ten thousand times.” Justin leaned forward. “Are you really going to go through with this? You know Milo would want you to stay here.”

 

How dare Justin talk to him about what Milo would want, Jared fumed. “Milo would want the trip to the south to go ahead no matter what,” he said coolly.

 

Justin shrugged. “Why isn’t he here, then?” 

 

Jared took a breath and tried to mentally count to ten. He only got to three, but it was further than he usually got when it came to dealing with Justin these days. “I don’t know –”

 

“I would have thought his twin would know _everything_.”

 

“Get out!” Jared snapped. “I need to finish getting ready.”

 

Justin rolled his eyes. “You’ve been packed for at least a fortnight now. You don’t fool me.” He stood up suddenly. In spite of himself, Jared took a step back. He was taller than Justin now, just, but it meant nothing when Justin was an alpha and he was an omega.

 

Justin took a step closer. “I _know_ you.”

 

Jared looked away, unable to keep holding eye contact. “Then you know I’m going to tell my mother you were in my room without permission if you don’t leave.”

 

Justin snorted. “No, you won’t. Your pride won’t let you. An omega running to an alpha for protection? You’d rather die first.”

 

Jared glared at him. “Want to bet on it?”

 

Justin’s smile widened. “What are the stakes? A kiss?”

 

Jared could feel himself trembling, and hoped it wasn’t obvious to Justin. “You know I have to stay untouched until my wedding night.”

 

“You have to stay untouched for your alpha,” Justin corrected silkily. “Since we already know who that is –”

 

“Goodbye, Justin,” Jared said, looking pointedly at the door.

 

Justin moved to his side, but he stopped short of where Jared wanted him to go, gazing at the omega as though he feared Jared would vanish if he blinked. “Let me go instead,” he said suddenly.

 

“What?”

 

“To the south. Let me go.”

 

Jared laughed before he could stop himself at the absurdity of the thought. “Myrtle’s staying with me.” 

 

“I don’t want the dragon,” Justin huffed. “One that small’s only suitable for an omega, anyway.”

 

Smoke began to curl out of Myrtle’s nostrils. Justin took a hasty step back before realising what he’d done. He squared his shoulders. “Let me go,” he said again.

 

“You don’t even speak the southern tongue,” Jared said in disbelief.

 

“So? I bet none of them speak a word of our language.”

 

Annoyingly, that was undoubtedly true. “Someone needs to be able to communicate without a translator,” Jared settled on eventually. “It might as well be me.”

 

Justin’s eyes narrowed. “Milo wouldn’t want you to be surrounded by unknown alphas.”

 

“I’m sure he’d be very angry if an alpha came into my bedroom without permission and refused to leave,” Jared said sweetly.

 

“That’s different! You know me!”

 

“I do.” In spite of himself, Jared’s voice softened. “You get seasick just sailing along our coasts. I’m going to the _southernmost_ part of Val Deauvin.”

 

Justin deflated. “I’m not going to change your mind, am I?”

 

“No.” A good omega would have apologised. Jared wasn’t a good omega. “You need to stay here and look after Jake and Adrianne.”

 

“I’d rather look after you,” Justin said, his eyes looking particularly soulful.

 

“I don’t need looking after,” Jared said firmly. He reached for the doorknob. “I’ll say goodbye to you later.”

 

“All omegas need looking after.” Justin’s eyes gleamed. “Don’t worry, Jared. When we’re mated, I’ll be sure to leave you… satisfied.”

_PLEASE can I bite him?_

 

 _No_ , Jared thought, as loudly and clearly as he could, though a tiny part of him was tempted. “If you don’t leave now –”

 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Justin paused, though. “Speak to me like this when we’re mated, though,” he said, smiling but not with his eyes, “and we’re going to have problems.”

 

Jared couldn’t help himself. “What kind of problems?”

 

“The kind that result in you bent naked over my lap with your ass the same red as our banner,” Justin said easily.

 

Jared glared. Had it been any other alpha, said in a way that was affectionately teasing, he might have purred. As it was, he would never submit to Justin.

 

He yanked open the door, intending to try to shove Justin out if he wouldn’t go willingly, and jumped in surprise when he saw that his father was there.

 

“Hey Uncle Jeff,” Justin said, without a hint of shame. “I was just leaving.”

 

Jeff’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t go on my account.”

 

Jared ground his teeth together but managed to bite his tongue. If there was another human in the world less likely to side with him against Justin, he had yet to meet them.

 

“Thanks, but I think Jared’s getting tetchy.” Justin winked, and turned to give Jared one last glance. “See you soon,” he murmured, before slipping out of the door.

 

Jared hated himself for it, but a tiny part of him melted under the dual onslaught of his cousin’s honey-sweet voice and melted-chocolate eyes. It didn’t mean that he had to listen to that part, though.

 

“Dad,” Jared said uncertainly, as his father stepped inside and closed the door inside him.

 

Jeff looked curiously at Myrtle for a long moment, and then returned his attention to Jared. “You must be pleased,” he said neutrally. “There’s not one royal omega in a thousand to be given this honour.”

 

“I’m gratified by the Oracle’s blessing.” It seemed the safest response.

 

“You know that it should have gone to Milo.”

 

For a moment, Jared felt like a dragon himself, ready to spit fire. He swallowed the feeling down with difficulty. “I’m aware of that,” he choked out.

 

“I just don’t want you to view this as something that it’s not.”

 

Jared tilted his head to the side. He and Jeff had never gotten along, but it wasn’t often that he genuinely had no idea what his father meant. “Like what?”

 

“This is the Oracle’s blessing for your trip to the south – where I’m sure you’ll perform splendidly.” Jared blinked, bewildered at the unexpected praise. “It isn’t a sign that you no longer have the needs of any other omega, however.”

 

Jared blinked again, and then rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”

 

“I know you have other thoughts on your mind right now,” Jeff’s eyes briefly shone with pain before they hardened, “but we’ll discuss your mateship when you return.”

 

“There’s nothing to discuss. I don’t want a mate.”

 

“‘Want’ is different from ‘need’ –”

 

“I don’t need a mate either,” Jared snapped, bristling.

 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Jared. What will you do about your heats for the rest of your life?”

 

Jared folded his arms. Somehow, discussing this part of biology with his beta father was always worse than discussing it with his alpha mother. At least Samantha had experienced ruts, even if those, quite frankly, seemed blissful in comparison to heats. Jeff knew nothing of being enslaved by his biology. “The same thing I did when I was too young to be mated.”

 

“You can’t do that all your life!”

 

“Watch me,” Jared said, before allowing a smirk to cross his face. “Besides, you don’t need a mate to get sex.”

 

For a moment, he was certain that Jeff would slap him. He didn’t even know why he’d said it. Jared had no intention of becoming sexually vulnerable before an alpha ever, but Jeff had always managed to get under his skin in a way that not even Justin had. Jared wished he could blame it on the notorious beta-omega rivalry, but Jeff had always adored Jake.

 

Jeff took a deep, slow breath. Jared had a sudden suspicion that he was counting to ten too. “You’re likely going to carry the next heirs, Jared,” he said coldly. “You need to learn some respect for our ways.”

 

Jared’s mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to figure out which point to address first. “Our ways?” he managed finally. “We don’t have ways. If we did, Milo and I would be mated by now, and _you_ would never have married –”

 

“It’s one thing to change sibling mateships, and quite another to –”

 

“And Milo’s the heir!” Jared said furiously. “ _His_ children will be next-in-line.”

 

“I’m not going to argue with you.” Jeff suddenly appeared much older, though he’d been a young man when the twins were born, only a few years older than Jared was now. “Not when you’re going so far away. But we will discuss this when you return.”

 

“If I return,” Jared said mulishly, but he made sure to say it too quietly for his father to hear.

 

For a moment, as he finally stood alone in his room, Jeff and Justin’s words running through his mind, Jared had the fleeting and uncharacteristic thought that if Milo had willingly left him alone to deal with this, he was going to throttle his twin himself.

 

*

 

Jared had purposely avoided thinking about the moment he’d have to say goodbye, and in the end he was glad of that. Even if he’d pictured it a hundred times, he couldn’t imagine it would ever have been easy. It was so hard not to wonder if this would be the last time he ever saw one or all of them. There was no reason to think that – they were all fit members of the monarchy in a time of peace – but Jared hadn’t thought the last time he saw Milo would be significant either.

 

He’d pressed a fond but absentminded kiss to Milo’s cheek as he left his brother studying in their library. As last moments went, it was hardly the worst, but Jared still wished he’d told Milo how much he loved him. Now he might never have the chance again.

 

With that in mind, he made sure to reassure everyone (even Jeff and Justin) of his feelings before he left. If this was their last goodbye, at least they hadn’t parted in anger. It didn’t make up for all the times Jared had aggravated them in the past, of course, but it was something.

 

If I make it back, he vowed to himself, I’m going to try to be a better brother to Jake and a better son to Jeff. Looking at Justin, though, he couldn’t quite bring himself to vow to be a good mate. When Amy pulled him aside and pressed a bag of herbs into his hands, though, whispering that they could stop a heat if taken at the very beginning of his cycle, Jared managed to smile and thank her, instead of being offended at her lack of trust in him. His next cycle wasn’t due for another five months. If he’d thought there was a chance it could come sooner, he would have stalled. Going into heat was bad enough. Going into heat in a foreign kingdom on a diplomatic mission was unimaginable.

 

It wasn’t until the very last moment that Jared realised what he’d overlooked, and by then it was too late. The very best of their guards were still scouring the kingdom for Milo, which left Danneel Harris, an alpha with hair like flames and a fighting spirit to match, as Acting Captain of the Guards. Though Danneel was inexperienced, she’d excelled enough in the past for Samantha to deem her worthy of the position. Jared didn’t know her well, but he liked her. Of course, it also didn’t hurt that Danneel was half-southern, and spoke the language fluently.

 

Lady Loretta Devine, his mother’s best friend, was also to accompany them. Though the swords of Danneel and her company reassured him, it was the calm and steady presence of the beta Loretta that truly made Jared feel safe. It had been nearly two centuries since Alyonis had last sent ambassadors to either Montisierre or Val Deauvin, but if either role was to be revived, Loretta would fill either admirably. Perhaps one day she officially would.   

 

In short, while leaving his kingdom and arriving in the south were both of concern to Jared, he hadn’t thought much about the journey between. There was always the risk of a shipwreck, but he was still hopeful that the Goddess would smile on his journey, and storms were rarer this time of year. It was only when he looked around his retinue and met a pair of icy-blue eyes that Jared’s heart sank.

 

Lieutenant Alexis Bledel. Like Danneel, she was young and inexperienced, but a determined fighter. Jared had been sure that she was part of the group searching for Milo. He wracked his brains for a good reason for her to be here, but could come up with nothing. Nor could he think of a reason to dismiss her, given that his mother had clearly approved her.

 

Alexis, an alpha and an untitled one at that, had been Milo’s lover. At most, there were three people in the entire world that knew that. Perhaps, soon, there would only be two.

 

It dawned on Jared that if he found out she did have something to do with Milo’s disappearance, she’d be perfectly placed for him to rip her throat out with his teeth. 


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was just starting to set, casting a reddish glow over the ocean, when Jared caught sight of land. For a moment, his heart beating wildly as he leaned against the ship’s railings, he wondered if they’d finally arrived at Val Deauvin’s capital city. Then he remembered that they still had a few days’ travel, and that this port, while striking in its own right and a welcome sight after a week of nothing but sea, was nowhere near impressive enough for the richest city in the richest kingdom. 

 

Jared sighed. He was lucky enough to have a stomach made of steel, so the journey had never been unpleasant for him, but even he was starting to fantasise about sleeping on a bed that didn’t sway – not to mention the chance to take a proper bath. The trade-off for those luxuries, though, was being surrounded by southerners who would decide the fate of his kingdom. In some ways, he wished the journey would last forever. Even at this time of year, the weather remained warm, a further reminder of how far they’d travelled from Alyonis. A part of him missed their cool weather and abundant rainfall, but it was undoubtedly more pleasant to travel without it. 

 

“Enjoying the view, Your Highness?”

 

Jared turned to smile at Captain Harris. “I’ve told you before that you can call me Jared,” he admonished lightly. “We don’t need to stand on ceremony.”

 

Captain Harris smiled back. “I’ll need one more reminder, Your Highness. As always.” She nodded towards the port that was gradually growing larger. “What do you think of it?” 

 

Jared turned back. “From here, at least, it looks impressive.” While every southern port they’d passed by had looked different, none had been displeasing to the eye. In one port, every building had been painted blue, while in the next, they were all pink. As startling as it had been, it wasn’t truly surprising. Val Deauvin was renowned for its love of colour, even if Jared had never seen it in person until now.

 

The port they were approaching, however, seemed more like the ones in Jared’s home, though on a much larger scale. The buildings seemed greyer than anything else, and none were as strikingly tall as those in other ports. It wasn’t yet truly dark, but the entire port blazed with light, reminding Jared that the south tended to stay awake and get up later than he was used to at home. He felt a pang in his chest. That pattern of sleep would have suited Milo.

 

“I’m glad you think so,” Captain Harris was saying, and Jared gladly turned to her instead of dwelling on his own dark thoughts. “More than anything, our hosts want others to look at them with awe. If they had a choice between beauty and practicality, they would choose the former every time.” She glanced at Jared from under her eyelashes. “If you plan to discuss our journey with the southerners, you may want to keep that in mind.”

 

Jared nodded. While he wished Captain Harris would deliver her advice more straightforwardly, he understood her discomfort with doing so. They didn’t really know each other, after all, and Jared was Alpha-Queen Samantha’s eldest omega son. He hoped that she might feel more at ease with him when they finally returned home.  

 

“There was something else I wanted to ask, Your Highness.”

 

Jared forced a smile. “Go ahead.”

 

“We’re making good time – much better than we had expected, in fact. If it suits you, we can seek permission to stop overnight at that port. We’d remain on the ship, of course.”

 

Even with that caveat at the end, Jared brightened at the thought of getting to observe the port from a closer distance, as well as the opportunity to delay his arrival a little longer. Then he paused.

 

“What do you think?” he asked Captain Harris. “Would the southerners be offended if we did that?”

 

“As a whole, they tend to assume lateness rather than punctuality. They may find us appearing early a nuisance. However,” Captain Harris looked directly into his eyes, “you’re a delegate of Alyonis. They have to adapt to our ways just as you have to adapt to theirs.”

 

Jared wouldn’t argue, but he didn’t agree with that assessment. The southerners, with their vast land and population, neither of which had undergone a war in recent years (at least as far as he knew), held the advantage here. He would adapt to their ways, and not the other way around.

 

“What does Lady Loretta think?” he asked.

 

“If you consent, she thinks a break might do us all good. Your decision is final, though –”

 

Jared hadn’t understood the first sentence initially, and then his eyes widened. “Is Lieutenant Bledel still feeling seasick? I thought the herbs she took helped?”

 

Captain Harris shrugged. “They did, I think, but she’ll never be a sailor.” 

 

Jared listened hard, but he couldn’t tell what Captain Harris thought of that. Was it a comment she would have made about anyone in the same situation, or was it an insult specifically directed at an alpha who preferred her own kind to betas or omegas? Could Captain Harris _know_?

 

Surely, she knew nothing about Milo. He had to have known how to be discreet. Lieutenant Bledel’ sexual orientation, however… Perhaps that was more widely known.

 

For a moment, his heart ached for her. He couldn’t imagine it was easy being gay in a field as hyper-alpha as the military. Then he remembered that Milo had been in the same position, and it was Milo who was missing, not Lieutenant Bledel.

 

All the same… “I’d like to stop if we can, please. I think we could all benefit from a rest.”

 

Captain Harris sketched a quick bow and left. He was glad that she was at least less formal about that than she had been at the beginning of the journey. Maybe he’d eventually be able to convince her not to do it at all.

 

Jared glanced towards the crow’s nest. He pictured Myrtle, and thought, _You okay?_

 

The reply was instant. _You worry too much._ A second later. _I’m fine. You?_

_Did you hear all that?_

_Jared, please. I’m a dragon._

 

Jared smiled. A few days into the journey, he’d grown paranoid enough at the prospect of her listening to everything on his mind that he’d asked if there was a less intrusive way to communicate. He was sure that she’d grow bored of all the inconsequential thoughts that flitted through his mind, at the very least. Myrtle had made a huffing noise, which he thought was laughter, but in the end she’d told him that picturing her in his mind and thinking slowly and clearly was the best way to get her attention, besides just speaking aloud. She couldn’t entirely ignore him, but she promised to do her best to pay more attention to the mood of his thoughts than the specifics. If he was in danger, she wanted to know, but beyond that, she could appreciate his need for privacy.

_Are you hungry?_ he asked.

_Still full from lunch. Perhaps later, though._

 

Considering that she wasn’t much larger than a domestic cat, the amount she consumed was impressive. After a day of trying what the humans were eating, Myrtle had plunged into the ocean in search of something tastier, and proved a remarkably adept fisher. Jared couldn’t say that he was happy when she disappeared below the waves for long stretches at a time, but she insisted that dragons could breathe underwater (Jared wondered if it was really just that she could hold her breath for long stretches of time), and she always responded when he checked in with her.

 

Captain Harris, at the start of their journey, had glanced at Myrtle worriedly, and said, “You need to watch her, Your Highness. The south does have dragons, but hardly any tame ones. She’d be a valuable commodity.”

 

Myrtle had landed on Jared’s shoulder – not all that gracefully, but both pretended not to notice – and hissed crossly. _Who does she think she is? I’m not_ tame. _And she should watch out for herself. How many people in the south speak both the southern and the central tongues, huh?_

 

Jared had smothered a laugh and petted her scales comfortingly.

 

With that exchange in mind, however, he couldn’t help asking, _You will stay on the ship, won’t you? We have enough fish here to last you for tonight._

_If it means that much to you._

_Thank you._

_You can be a very polite human, you know. Mind that no one takes advantage… in my case, though, I rather like it._

 

Jared smiled. Personally, he thought that she was more amenable than he was polite. His mother had intended to announce Milo’s departure to the south at the last moment, knowing how unpopular it would be amongst their citizens, in an attempt to minimize discontent until he returned. With regards to Jared’s departure, however, she’d decided to keep it a secret. As much as Jared hated it, even he could see that sending an alpha to the south was one thing, and sending an omega quite another. Not announcing the trip to the south also meant not announcing Myrtle, who’d needed to be smuggled on to the ship in a chest. Jared had released her immediately, of course, and she’d remained below deck until they were out of sight, all of which she’d born with good grace. Good manners were the least she deserved in exchange.

 

*

 

Their request to stay overnight had been granted, though they didn’t anchor in the harbour itself, instead staying a little way out to sea. The harbourmaster had been the one to suggest that, but both Captain Harris and Lady Loretta had been all too happy to agree. It had been them who’d conducted the negotiations when the harbourmaster rowed out to meet them, while Jared stood to one side, veiled as was the tradition for royal omegas when away from home. Their Goddess, though not bound by the confines of alpha, beta or omega in the way that humans were, took on the guise of an alpha when in human form, it was said, and had never mated. Omegas of Jared’s house, chosen by the Goddess herself to rule over Alyonis, thus veiled themselves when away from the protection of their home and alpha. Tempting a Goddess was never a wise move. Jared, though, preferred the interpretation beloved by the Dark Order, which said that the Goddess did have a mate, her twin sister, who took on an omega form when human, and who demanded omegas veil themselves in deference to her beauty.

 

Jared had never objected to veiling himself before, but being allowed to do nothing but observe, hidden behind heavy fabric that only thinned over his eyes, allowing him to just about see out but making it impossible for anyone to see in, proved oddly frustrating. Milo would at least have been able to make eye contact with the harbourmaster, even if Lady Loretta and Captain Harris would still have done the bulk of the talking. 

 

Jared had studied the southern tongue for years, but he could admit to a moment of panic when the harbourmaster spoke. The beta’s accent was like none that Jared had ever heard, and he talked so quickly that Jared wasn’t even sure it was the southern tongue at first. Captain Harris, however, was unfazed, and smoothly interpreted to Lady Loretta and Jared, before translating Lady Loretta’s words in return. Lady Loretta glanced at Jared after every exchange, checking his posture for signs that he was unhappy, but that was all he was able to contribute.

_You’re not the First Omega,_ Jared reminded himself. _If you were, perhaps you would have more of a say, but you’re still just the eldest omega son of the First Alpha. You’re lucky to be able to witness this exchange at all._

 

The harbourmaster was polite, but clearly uncomfortable, glancing repeatedly at Jared’s outfit but never seeking eye contact. Jared wondered if it was the veil that disconcerted him, or if southern veils were just styled differently, or if it was the fact that an omega was under there. The south didn’t have many of those, at least as far as Jared knew. There was so much to find out…

 

It was a relief to shed the veil when the harbourmaster departed. Dinner was a more cheerful affair than usual, and even Lieutenant Bledel managed to clear her plate, though she still looked faintly green. Jared was curled up in bed, a small candle burning by his side (and a jug of water nearby in case of mishaps) and Myrtle at his feet, when a knock sounded on his door and Lady Loretta entered.

 

“Hello, Jared. I just wanted to check how you were doing?” Unlike Captain Harris, Lady Loretta had no qualms about using his name. She’d known him all his life, though, which probably helped. Her voice was, as ever, sweet and light.

 

Jared closed his book and smiled. “Stopping here was a good idea. Thank you for negotiating it.”

 

Lady Loretta waved an airy hand. “It wasn’t any trouble. The harbourmaster proved more amenable than I expected – though perhaps he’s hoping if we stay, he’ll get a better look at you.”

 

Jared blinked. “Me? Why?”

 

Lady Loretta smiled. “Oh, come now. How often can a southerner claim to have seen an omega prince? _Especially_ one from Alyonis.”

 

“How often can a southerner claim to have seen someone from Alyonis at all?” Jared returned. “You and Captain Harris would have been equally fascinating – I know she’s half-southern, but I’m sure to them she’s one of us.”

 

“I’m sure they would consider Captain Harris more Alyonis’ child than Val Deauvin’s, but I disagree strongly with your first statement.” Her voice was still gentle, though. “You’re the one people we encounter will tell their grandchildren about. You’ll have more of an opportunity to speak once we actually arrive and you can unveil.”

 

Jared looked at her gratefully. She understood. He would need to meet his hosts veiled, but once they welcomed him, implicitly placing him under their protection, he would be allowed to remove it. He was both looking forward to and dreading that moment. 

 

Jared suddenly paused, looking again at Lady Loretta. Her appointment as Samantha’s advisor (and now, in a way, as his) had been unusual for several reasons. Traditionally, it was an unmated sibling of the First Alpha and First Omega who would hold such a privileged position. Had they lived fifty years ago, Milo would likely have offered it to Jake – or, were their current family relations intact, to Justin. Samantha had more than once referred to Lady Loretta affectionately as her sister, but Jared had never heard her speak about her biological sisters, who’d died seventeen years ago, at the outbreak of the war.

 

Secondly, and perhaps more unusually, though, was that Lady Loretta was a beta. The post was always held by either an alpha or an omega. Given that they were travelling to the south, though, where it was equally common for alphas or betas to rule… Lady Loretta wouldn’t seem unusual at all. Neither the harbourmaster they’d just met nor anyone else would look at her and realise how atypical her position was.

 

Had that been part of the motivation for sending her as part of Jared’s escort? While Jared would symbolise how foreign his kingdom was, an omega that once would have wed his alpha sibling, Lady Loretta would represent all that they had in common with the southerners. If even enigmatic, exotic Alyonis could appoint a sensible, solid beta, perhaps there was hope for an alliance after all.

 

“My mother always considers all possibilities, doesn’t she?” Jared said slowly, watching Lady Loretta closely.

 

The beta blinked, but her voice was still light when she replied, “Samantha has plans upon plans.”

 

Well, Jared had plans too. If Adrianne married either the northern or the southern prince, his mother would have her alliance and Adrianne would have the adventure she longed for. Jake could marry Justin, unifying the two branches of their family, appeasing both the radicals and the traditionalists, and allowing Jake to remain in Alyonis.

 

And, of course, Jared would be free – or as free as a member of the royal family could ever be. If Jared had a choice in his fate, he would spend the rest of his life searching for Milo, not resting until he succeeded or died trying. At this point, that was all he wanted.

 

*

 

Jared wasn’t sure what woke him up. All he knew was that he was suddenly wide awake, Myrtle snoozing contentedly at his feet. He slowly inched out of bed, careful not to disturb her, and padded to the door. It felt like the middle of the night, and as he eased open his door, headed down the corridor, and climbed up the ladder onto the deck, he realized that it was. His own ship was silent, seemingly deserted, but he could hear faint music and the occasional cry from the beach ahead. The southerners, it seemed, were still wide awake.

 

He crossed the deck and leaned against the railing, watching, though he couldn’t make out individual shapes. Even with the abundance of southern lights, it was too dark for that. He thought that he would feel resentful at the revelry, but to his surprise he felt almost fond. If he couldn’t be happy, or celebrate so freely and unworriedly, at least other people in the world could.

 

For the first time in his life, Jared wondered who he would’ve been if he hadn’t been born in Alyonis. There had been many occasions where he’d imagined what his life would have been like had he not been a prince, but he’d never pictured himself as a citizen of Val Deauvin or Montisierre. Even his vivid imagination, which his father often scolded him for, hadn’t stretched that far. Would Jared be as uncomplicatedly joyful as the people barely any physical distance away at all, but an entire universe apart in all other measures, if he had been born southern? His kingdom had always been scornful of southern decadence and selfishness, but maybe Val Deauvin wasn’t as immoral as he had been led to believe…

 

“What are you doing awake?”

 

Jared jumped, startled, and his heart sank when he turned around and saw that it was Lieutenant Bledel.

 

“I woke up. I didn’t realise that was a crime now,” he said, unable to resist being snarky. Even before Milo’s disappearance, Jared and Lieutenant Bledel had never been close.

 

Lieutenant Bledel’s scowl deepened. “Then you should have stayed in your cabin. Up here is no place for you.” She stepped forward, evidently intending to usher him back downstairs, but Jared folded his arms and held his ground. Something in his eyes made Lieutenant Bledel falter.

 

“I’m not a prisoner. I can go where I please.”

 

“Not while we’re in Val Deauvin you can’t.” Somehow, Lieutenant Bledel’s voice became even colder.

 

“Technically, we’re not in Val Deauvin yet. We’re still on the ship, which could be considered territory of Alyonis –”

 

“Spare me. Just go back to bed.”

 

“No,” Jared said flatly. Normally, he wouldn’t have dreamed of being so rude, but this was the first time he’d been alone with Lieutenant Bledel since Milo disappeared. His blood pumped feverishly through his body, almost to the beat of the southern music he could still hear. “You don’t get to give me orders.”   

 

“Because it’s your job to give orders, isn’t it?” Lieutenant Bledel smiled, but there was nothing joyful about it. “It’s really Milo’s job, of course, but it didn’t take you long to get comfortable, did it?”

 

Jared stared. Whatever reply he’d expected Lieutenant Bledel to give, it hadn’t been that. “It’s my mother’s job, actually,” he said. “But when Milo returns –”

 

Lieutenant Bledel snorted. Jared took a step closer to her, suddenly desperate to do something he’d sworn he would never do. 

_“What do you know?”_ he hissed. It didn’t contain the full force of his power, but it was still enough to make Lieutenant Bledel’s eyes widen.

 

“I know nothing,” she said resentfully.

 

“Then why did you –”

 

“Milo isn’t going to return. You made sure of that.”

 

Jared’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

 

“Oh, don’t act the innocent,” Lieutenant Bledel spat. “You might be able to fool everyone else on-board with your eyes and your voice and your, your omega-ness, and you might have been able to fool Milo, but you don’t fool me.” She smiled again, disconcerting him even more than she had the first time. A very small part of Jared’s brain couldn’t help noting that Lieutenant Bledel was very attractive. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe while we’re here – for Milo’s sake, not for yours. But if you think I’m just going to go quietly away when you’re crowned First Omega, think again. I’ll always be there, always watching. And I’ll _always_ know what you did.”

 

There had been plenty of time for Jared to come up with a retort – to come up with dozens of retorts, in fact. Yet he was still dumbstruck, waiting for the world to shift back from the alarming tilt it had suddenly taken. “I’m not going to be the First Omega,” was all he could eventually think to say.

 

Lieutenant Bledel rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you and Lord Justin will have very beautiful babies together.” Her eyes glinted maliciously. “Once you have twins, will you make him disappear too?”

 

The way Jared saw it, he had several options. He could stay here, and argue, though he doubted his words would have any effect. Lieutenant Bledel had clearly made up her mind. He could flee back down to his cabin, and avoid being alone with Lieutenant Bledel for the rest of the trip, and hope that one day her words might stop ringing in his head. His future stretching ahead of him, he saw that he could marry Justin, as almost everyone now seemed to expect, or he could marry another alpha that his parents deemed advantageous for their family.

 

Or he could take the third option.

 

Jared moved so quickly that he didn’t have a chance to see Lieutenant Bledel’s reaction. His dive into the sea was smooth and virtually soundless, as befitted a swimmer of Jared’s calibre. The way Samantha told it, he’d paddled before he’d walked, and despite the tendency of alphas to brag, he was inclined to believe her.

 

Jared surfaced, already an impressive distance from the ship. Glancing back, he could just see Lieutenant Bledel, leaning over the railing. He smiled to himself. Let her come for him, if she valued his safety that much, he thought spitefully, and swam towards the shore.

 

*

 

Even before he’d reached land, Jared knew it had been a stupid move to make, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret it. The night was still warm enough that his soaked pyjamas clinging to him was merely unpleasant, and, as Jared hoped, the beach was so full of people that no one batted an eye when he emerged.

 

He looked around in interest as he made his way into the crowd, hoping to lose himself there. The music was much louder now, and less tuneful than he’d originally thought. He felt exposed in his short-sleeved shirt and trousers (which had been form-fitting before, and were now positively indecent as they clung to his thighs – what would Alyonis, and particularly his mother, think if they could see him now?), but many of the people around him were wearing far less. _Some of the rumours about Val Deavuin are true, then,_ Jared thought, but then a part of him added, _If it’s this hot even at night, what’s it like during the day? Maybe their clothes are scandalous by our standards because they want to keep cool, not because they’re promiscuous._

 

With that unnerving thought (Val Deauvin and Montisierre were the aggressors, and had been for centuries, surely that gave Alyonis the right to think whatever she wanted about them… even when it was untrue?), Jared turned towards a quieter part of the beach, delighting in the feeling of sand beneath his feet, and froze. Up ahead of him, mostly concealed by shadows but obvious now that he knew where to look, was an alpha and an omega, entwined so closely that it was difficult to tell where the alpha’s body ended and the omega’s body began. They were kissing fervently – Jared imagined he could hear the slick sounds of their lips meeting, but surely he was too far away – and, when the alpha’s arm moved, Jared realised he had at least one hand down the back of the omega’s trousers…

 

Cheeks burning, heart pounding, Jared somehow couldn’t bring himself to look away. What must it be like, to be kissed with that much passion with no care as to who saw? To be touched so intimately, as though both you and the alpha were too full of passion to move somewhere more discreet? To not _care_ about being discreet?

 

The omega pulled away slightly with a keen, and Jared saw that they were both exceptionally attractive, with pleasing features and lush skin. It was the alpha’s face he kept returning to, however. His big eyes, too far away for Jared to be sure of the exact colour, never moved from the omega, even when his companion closed his eyes. When the alpha smiled, displaying his full, strong mouth to devastating effect, there seemed to be an entire world of love bound up in that smile.  

 

It was that, more than anything else, that finally made Jared feel guilty enough to look away. He turned around, and gasped when he ran straight into another alpha.

 

This one was good-looking too. He didn’t exactly look like the first alpha, but his features were similarly chiselled, as though the Goddess herself had carved them both, lingering over finely curved noses and jaws and delighting in bright eyes and handsome mouths that seemed designed to reel Jared in as though he was a fish at the end of a hook.

 

This one, though, was close enough that Jared could look into his eyes, and see that they were strikingly, eerily blue. They were almost the exact colour of Jared’s favourite lake on a sunny day –  

 

“I,” the alpha began, but with none of the confidence that Jared usually associated with alphas. He looked almost as lost as Jared felt. “I… You… wow.”

 

Jared might have laughed, had he not felt so dazed. All he could do was stare adoringly at the unknown alpha, behaviour that epitomized all the omega characteristics he hated. Thankfully, his brain was still sufficiently engaged that the southern words, despite being spoken in an accent that he’d never heard and instantly wished to hear more of, managed to make sense to him.

 

The alpha seemed to shake himself. “You’re… you’re not from House Cohen, are you?” His eyes flickered to Jared’s red pyjamas, and then seemed to linger. Normally, Jared would have felt self-conscious to have anyone gawping at him like that, let alone a southern stranger, but instead, horrifyingly, he wanted to preen, to stretch and show the alpha _exactly_ what he’d be getting if he pulled Jared down into the sand right now and –

 

Jared wasn’t so far gone that he intended to finish that thought, let alone act on it. With seeming difficulty, the alpha wrenched his gaze back up to Jared’s eyes, and then seemed to become speechless all over again.

_Who are you?_ Jared thought. He’d never thought he could feel this needy outside of his heat. Distantly, as though he was underwater, he heard himself saying, “No, I’m not from House Cohen.”

 

The alpha inhaled sharply. “Where are you from?” he asked, almost tripping over his words in his eagerness.

 

Jared hesitated. The urge to tell this alpha whatever he wanted to know was strong, but not strong enough to overrule instincts sharpened through years of palace training. Right now, those instincts were telling Jared to say as little as possible. The most stunning creatures, after all, tended to be the most dangerous. Just look at dragons.

 

“The border?” the alpha asked, moving a step closer, though there was barely any distance between them. He was shorter than Jared – most people were, which was perhaps unsurprising when royals tended to be taller than the general population anyway, and Jeff, despite being a beta with no royal blood at all, was renowned for his height – but Jared was the one who felt small and fragile and surprisingly safe in this alpha’s company. He was enacting all the omega stereotypes he hated, and – worst of all – he couldn’t even bring himself to care. “I’ve never… I’ve never heard _anyone_ speak like you.”

 

There was nothing but awe in his voice, as though he thought Jared was someone special, someone worth listening to, but Jared felt as though he’d been doused with cold water all the same. This was dangerous. No one could know that Omega-Prince Jared of Alyonis had been here. The alpha didn’t seem like he was going to put two and two together, but Jared had lingered here too long.

 

Jared took a step back, though it was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. “I have to go,” he forced out.

 

“Wait!” the alpha lunged for him, but stopped short of actually touching him. Somehow, the gesture held Jared in place more powerfully than the alpha’s grip ever would have. “At least tell me your name. Please.”

_What harm could a name do?_ Jared thought instinctively, but he knew that, in this situation, his name could do great harm.

 

“Tell me yours,” he said instead, not strong enough to walk away altogether.

 

The alpha looked startled. Had he told Jared already and he’d forgotten? Jared was certain that he hadn’t.

 

Movement in the distance caught Jared’s eye, and he looked towards it, locking gazes with Lieutenant Bledel at precisely the wrong moment. Relief blossomed on the pale alpha’s face, and she began to make her way towards them. Even from here, Jared could see her eyes darkening with rage.

 

He sighed, and returned his attention to the alpha before him. “I have to go,” he said again, apologetically inclining his head towards Lieutenant Bledel.

 

The alpha followed his gaze. “Oh,” he said softly, face falling. “Is she… is she your alpha?”

 

Lieutenant Bledel reached them before Jared could deny this ludicrous suggestion. She looked between them, giving the other alpha a particularly murderous look (he didn’t retreat, Jared noted, impressed, while another part of him sang out, _of course_ my _alpha wouldn’t –_ ), before seizing Jared by the arm and leading him away.

 

Jared didn’t even think to protest. He just went with her, glancing over his shoulder to get one final glimpse of the alpha, doing all that he could to sear the image into his brain so that he would never, ever forget. 

 

“I can’t believe you,” Lieutenant Bledel was muttering. Jared dimly noted that she was leading him back towards the ocean, and wondered if he’d have to swim to the boat. He didn’t feel nearly coordinated enough for the effort that would require. “Acting like a spoiled brat, making me chase after you –”

 

“Acting like a spoiled brat, _Your Highness_ ,” Jared corrected, and was surprised by how strong his voice sounded. “And I didn’t _make_ you –”

 

Lieutenant Bledel whipped her head around to glare at him, though she didn’t stop hurrying him through the crowd for a moment. “And just what was going on between you and that gormless idiot?”

 

“He wasn’t a gormless idiot,” Jared said huffily, though he at least had the presence of mind to keep his voice low. Hopefully, if anyone overhead them speaking a language they didn’t recognise, they’d just assume they were northern, but it seemed better not to tempt fate.  

 

Stupid to have left without his veil, he thought suddenly. If he’d kept it on, there was no way the alpha would have been able to put him under such a spell.

 

But if he had kept it on… he could never have passed through the crowd unnoticed. And he would never have spoken to that alpha.

 

Jared let out a dreamy sigh before he could stop himself, and Lieutenant Bledel wrenched hard on his arm.

 

“What’s the matter with you?” she demanded. Her voice rose. “Did he _drug_ you?”

 

Jared pulled out of her grip, scowling, annoyed with himself for letting her hold onto him for so long. “Just because Milo lets you touch him however you want,” he said without thinking, “doesn’t meant that applies to –”

 

They both froze, staring at one another. Jared expected Lieutenant Bledel to lose her temper completely, like the volcano he’d read about but never seen, but instead she just stared, eyes wide and surprisingly vulnerable.

 

Jared broke first. He blamed his capitulating on still feeling… whatever it was that alpha had inspired in him. “No, he didn’t drug me,” he said quietly. “He didn’t do anything.” Unbidden, the memory of the other alpha, the first one, and the way he had kissed his omega flashed through Jared’s mind, and he felt his cheeks burning. Hopefully, it was too dark for Lieutenant Bledel to properly notice. “Can we go back to the ship now?”   

 

“Of course,” Lieutenant Bledel said, surprisingly subdued. “I tied the boat up over there.”

 

Jared followed her automatically, and then blinked. “The boat?”

 

Some of Lieutenant Bledel’ old fire returned. “You didn’t expect me to swim after you, did you?”

 

“I didn’t expect you to come after me at all,” Jared huffed, but he followed her all the same to a small wooden boat with oars, recognising it as one of their lifeboats. He reached for one of the oars, but Lieutenant Bledel glared at him so fiercely that he sat down instead, and let her take both of them. This part of the beach was deserted, but Lieutenant Bledel rowed quickly, face reddening from the strain of it, as Jared skimmed the beach frantically.

 

He told himself that he was just making sure no one had spotted them. He wasn’t looking for anyone in particular.

 

He dared to glance at Lieutenant Bledel once they were almost at the ship. “Uh, there’s no reason anyone needs to know about this, right?”

 

Lieutenant Bledel scowled, but said nothing in response. Jared took that as agreement.

_After all_ , he thought, some of his old bitterness returning, _I was the one who left without permission, but you_ goaded _me. And I’m a prince and you’re not._

 

He wasn’t particularly proud of himself, using an accident of birth like that, but he didn’t dwell on it. He was wondering how they were going to get both themselves and the boat back on board.

 

Myrtle, ever obliging, threw down a rope. Jared had asked her to try to tie it to something, unsure if that was within the capacity of even this remarkable dragon, and she said she had, but when Jared reached the deck he saw that she was just holding the rope in her mouth. He kissed the top of her head for that, and she batted him away, but he didn’t think she was truly displeased. 

 

Lieutenant Bledel, once on board, insisted she could deal with the boat herself, and, rolling his eyes, Jared decided to let her. _I bet my alpha wouldn’t be so insecure about accepting help from an omega,_ he thought before he could stop himself, and the horror of it – that alpha wasn’t, and never would be, Jared’s alpha. He wasn’t ever going to see him again, didn’t even get his name – was enough to spur him to return to his cabin in the pursuit of sleep. When he woke up, hopefully this would all seem like a dream, and would fade in his mind accordingly.

 

He asked Myrtle to give Lieutenant Bledel a hand, though. If she wouldn’t accept help from him, perhaps she’d accept it from the dragon that should have been Milo’s.

 

*

 

Stepping outside, Prince Jensen, second-in-line to the throne of Val Deauvin, tilted his head back to the sun and closed his eyes blissfully. This was the weather he liked best: sunny, but not sweltering. Winters in his kingdom had always been a joke to his best friend – “Call this winter? I’ve known summers in Montisierre to be colder than this!” – but they were Jensen’s favourite time of year. Though, he could admit to himself with a wry smile, he suspected he’d like winters in Montisierre a lot less. Then his smile faded.

 

What were winters in Alyonis like? In a few days, he might be able to find out. Assuming Alpha-Prince Milo intended to give any details away about his homeland, of course, instead of just soaking up all he could about Jensen’s.

 

Jensen sighed. Had it been up to him, this visit wouldn’t have been going ahead, or at least would have taken a different form. Why couldn’t one of them go to Alyonis? Winchester and Novak’s travel logs had been published five hundred years ago, and as far as Jensen could tell, they were still the most comprehensive documents they had about the kingdom that shared borders with both Val Deauvin and Montisierre.

 

Now, though, Queen Samantha appeared to have had a change of heart, and after years of exchanging letters, she and Jensen’s alpha father had agreed on this visit. For King Mitchell, this was an unprecedented diplomatic victory, and he was still strutting about like a preening peacock. Jensen, though, was worried, and he thought his beta father, King-Consort Gilbert, was too. Why this sudden interest in developing a closer relationship, when both Val Deauvin and Montisierre had tried for centuries and been soundly rebuffed every time?

 

Jensen sighed again. His elder sister, Princess Alaina, the heir to the throne, had rolled her eyes when he’d raised those questions, and pointed out that they’d never know the answers unless they hosted Alyonis’ heir, but Jensen wasn’t so sure. Alyonis, seemingly smaller and weaker than both Val Deauvin and Montisierre, had evaded both conquest and friendship for this long. It wouldn’t surprise him if their heir intended to continue that tradition.

 

Jensen had to admit to feeling a morbid curiosity about meeting someone who had only ever had two grandparents, though.

 

Footsteps sounded behind him, and Jensen glanced around with an automatic smile that softened into a more genuine one when he saw that it was only Misha. His best friend, despite getting more sleep than Jensen had, looked exhausted, his hair mussed and with dark shadows under his eyes. His smile, though, was contagious.

 

“I’ve thought about it some more, and I don’t think she is his alpha!” he announced.

 

Jensen kept smiling – after all, Misha had put up with worse from Jensen when it came to pretty omegas – but he mentally groaned. “What makes you think that?”

 

“She took him by the arm, not by the hand. And she didn’t kiss him! If you thought someone was hitting on your omega, wouldn’t you want to stake your claim?” Misha didn’t wait for Jensen’s response. “She just dragged him away. I think she’s maybe just an older sister.”

 

“Did they look alike?” Jensen couldn’t resist asking.

 

“Well… no.” Misha frowned slightly, but was soon smiling again. “You and your sisters don’t look that similar, but you’re still related.”

 

Unfortunately so, Jensen sometimes found himself uncharitably thinking, but he just nodded and forced himself to keep smiling. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

 

Misha gave a soft sigh. “I really think he could be my soulmate,” he said again. “When our eyes met… I’ve never felt a connection like that. I swear I _knew_ him, but I couldn’t have seen him before. I’d remember.”

 

Jensen rolled his eyes, though he was careful not to let Misha see. His best friend was kind and generous, not to mention devastatingly handsome, but he did have a tendency to give his heart away too easily. At least he had the sense to be discreet about it. No matter how moony Misha was now, Jensen knew that he’d be brisk and business-like when they finally returned to the palace, and the kiss he’d press to Jensen’s younger sister’s cheek would be chaste but fond. In a way, it pleased Jensen, that he was the only one Misha trusted with his authentic self. He felt the same about Misha, after all. No one else in his family would ever know, let alone understand, why they’d been all too willing to travel here.

 

At other times, though, Jensen wished Misha would find someone else to confide in, because there were only so many times that he could hear the same conversation over and over. At this point, Misha had spoken to Jensen about this supposedly earth-shatteringly beautiful omega for longer than he’d actually spoken to the omega in question. Even by Misha’s standards, this was ridiculous. And as for the talk of soulmates…

 

Jensen didn’t put a lot of stock in soulmates, though he did find it faintly amusing Misha was so enamoured by them, considering they were a southern superstition rather than a northern one. When Misha finally returned to Montisierre, he’d be more southern than northern, but the taunt no longer brought either of them much amusement, and Jensen had long ceased saying it aloud.

 

If soulmates did exist, though… Jensen knew who his would be. He smiled into the distance, though the conversation from last night weighing on his mind turned it bittersweet.

 

“Jensen, are you even listening to me?”

 

“Nope,” Jensen said unapologetically. “As I told you the first one thousand times, I can’t speculate on his eye colour with you when I didn’t even see him.”

 

“I wasn’t speculating on…” Misha huffed, but he didn’t stay annoyed for long. “If you’d seen him, you would understand.” 

 

“I’m sorry I missed it.” Jensen wasn’t being entirely sarcastic. Even allowing for Misha’s overly romantic nature, the omega had to have been stunning for Misha to still be talking about him. It had been almost half a day, now, and Misha had combed the beach several times over, a reluctant Jensen dragged in his wake, before admitting defeat. If Jensen’s foot was going to twinge with pain for the rest of the day from stepping on an overly sharp seashell, he should at least have something to show for it.

 

Misha grinned at him, face losing some of its besotted glow. “No, you’re not. You would have had to look at something other than Matt to notice my omega, and I know how incapable you are of that.”

 

Feeling his face redden, Jensen just shrugged. “ _Your_ omega?” he said instead, hoping to deflect attention.

 

“Mine,” Misha agreed happily.

 

“You don’t even know his name.”

 

“What do names matter when faced with a connection like ours?”

 

“And you’re sure he wasn’t from House Cohen?” Jensen couldn’t help asking again. Hmm, perhaps Misha’s repetitiveness was catching.

 

It was Misha’s turn to roll his eyes, but the gesture was fond. “Yes, I’m sure,” he said gently. “He was definitely an omega, and his accent wasn’t local, and he was all in red, and –”

 

Jensen’s eyebrows rose. “You never mentioned that last part.”

 

“I knew you’d get weird about it!”

 

“Why would I get weird about the fact your soulmate’s a prostitute?” Jensen couldn’t quite disguise the glee in his voice as the huge potential for teasing opened up in front of him. “I bet the alpha that dragged him off was another client, one that was actually going to pay him. Or maybe a pimp?”

 

“I was _not_ a client. And she wasn’t one either, or his pimp!”

 

Jensen folded his arms and smirked. “How do you know?”

 

“I… I…” Misha gave up and punched Jensen in the shoulder. Compared to the triumph of winning the argument, the pain scarcely registered. Jensen turned to walk towards the stables, and Misha fell in behind him.

 

“I don’t care what you say,” the other alpha said, after a few moments. “He meant something to me, and I know I meant something to him.”

 

Glancing over at him, Jensen intended to tease him some more, but then decided against it. “I know,” he said instead. “I hope you find him again.”

 

“I know I will,” Misha said confidently, but the smile he shot Jensen was grateful. “I can look for him again when we’re next here, right?”

 

Jensen’s guts clenched. “I’m not planning on coming back here.”

 

His voice was casual, and likely would have fooled his family, but Misha stopped dead in his tracks, and Jensen felt compelled to stop too.

 

“Not coming back?” Misha repeated, eyes wide. “What if they need help again?”

 

“Obviously I’ll come back for that,” Jensen huffed. “Just not for… other reasons.”

 

He resumed walking, and Misha eventually followed, as he always did.

 

“Jensen…” His voice was careful, as though speaking to a wounded animal. “Does Matt know that?”

 

Jensen swallowed, eyes burning. He was glad Misha wasn’t close enough to notice. “Of course.”

 

He heard Misha inhale sharply behind him. “And what did he say?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jensen was glad to reach the stables and Baby. His horse nuzzled into his hands, whinnying softly, and Jensen kissed her nose. At least she wouldn’t ask awkward questions.

 

“I didn’t realise…” Misha said behind him, still sounding dazed. Jensen groaned out loud that time, but Misha either didn’t hear or just ignored him. “You let me harp on and on about my omega, and the whole time…”

 

Jensen turned to face him. “Matt isn’t my omega,” he said simply. “He never was, and he never will be.”

 

Misha chewed on his bottom lip, rebellion brewing in his eyes. Jensen suddenly couldn’t bear to again have to refute all Misha’s arguments for why he and Matt could still be together. Misha being romantic and Jensen being practical might well be one of the reasons they’d become best friends so quickly and remained so for almost two decades, but right now their personalities were clashing rather than complementing.

 

“C’mon,” Jensen said. “Whoever reaches the harbourmaster’s building last has to lose our next jousting match.”

 

Misha’s eyes sparked competitively.

 

*

 

They were still arguing about it as they waited for the harbourmaster to see them. Misha insisted it had been a draw, but Jensen _knew_ he had won. Baby had never failed him. She’d been with him since she was a foal, and Jensen would have loved her no matter what, but the combination of beauty and speed was certainly a winning one. This early in the day, the streets were practically deserted, and there was no one around to confirm that Jensen was right. He supposed it didn’t much matter – he’d beat Misha in their next jousting match regardless.

 

“Your Highness,” the harbourmaster emerged with a deep bow. “And Lord Misha.” He bowed again, not quite so deeply that time, but still respectful.

 

Misha nodded graciously, while Jensen felt a familiar flicker of irritation. Even while in Val Deauvin, Misha was still a prince of Montisierre, and should be addressed as such. However, the precedent had been set by Jensen’s parents when he and Misha were both still children, and it was too late to change it now.

 

“Prince Misha and I are very grateful for your hospitality,” Jensen said, with his warmest smile.

 

The beta blinked rapidly, and then tried to smile in return. “And I – we – are very grateful for your assistance,” he managed, blushing more deeply with every word. “I don’t know what we would have done without…”

 

Jensen mentally slapped himself. If he’d been less effusive, the beta might actually have listened to Jensen’s words, instead of becoming entranced by his smile. Both of his sisters had long mastered the art of knowing when to use their looks and when to rely on their status instead, but Jensen still struggled. It was easy for both of them, he couldn’t help thinking. Alaina was the eldest alpha, and Katherine was the only beta. If Jensen had been given either of those advantages, he was sure he wouldn’t make so many mistakes.

 

“… And just knowing you were here when those… those _foreigners_ appeared! They left a few hours ago, your reputation clearly preceding you, but if they hadn’t –”

 

“Wait, what?” Jensen demanded, all senses on high alert. “What foreigners?”

 

“The delegation from Alyonis, in that eyesore of a ship.”

 

“They were _here_?” Jensen and Misha exchanged stunned glances.

 

“You don’t need to worry, Your Highness,” the harbourmaster said earnestly. “They didn’t leave their ship and they left this morning. I spoke to their prince myself.” He paused. “Well, he didn’t _speak_ , exactly, but _I_ spoke.” He grinned at them, his xenophobia clearly overruling his earlier shyness. “As it should be.”

 

“You saw the prince?” This was a sign from the God and Goddess that Jensen rarely prayed to, he was certain of it. If he hadn’t been canoodling with Matt, he might have been able to speak to the prince too. “What was he like?”

 

The beta hesitated. “Not entirely what I expected,” he said finally, while Jensen nearly vibrated with impatience. “He… Well, he gave me this.” He reached behind his desk and brought out an enormous ruby. “In thanks for allowing them to stay,” he added awkwardly. Seeing Jensen’s stunned expression, the beta quickly held out the jewel. “If the crown wants this, then of course I –”

 

“No, no, it’s yours.” Jensen shook his head, and the other man couldn’t quite disguise his relief. “We have plenty of fine jewels of our own.”

 

He couldn’t help sounding haughty, and hoped the beta wouldn’t think it was directed at him. The southern crown was a sight to behold, and certainly more impressive than that pebble, but all the same… Jensen hadn’t known Alyonis possessed enough wealth to be handing out gifts freely like that. He’d always thought they were poor. A popular southern joke was that Alyonis’ royal family only wedded their siblings to avoid having to pay a dowry. He’d need to ask Misha if Montisierre made similar jokes. 

 

“Did you see anyone else in the prince’s retinue?” Misha was so anxious to know the answer that he asked himself, instead of trying to signal to Jensen what he wanted to know. “An omega, perhaps?”

 

When Jensen glanced over, Misha was startlingly pale. _Of course,_ he thought suddenly. _Misha said he’d never heard that omega’s accent before… what if he was a_ central _omega, instead of a southern one?_

 

Of course, knowing Misha, he was probably just concerned that the omega might be the prince’s concubine. Even Misha’s belief of ‘love conquers all’ would struggle to reconcile that one.

 

The beta frowned thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I didn’t. Just a whole herd of alphas and a beta.” He shrugged. “Perhaps the beta was his attendant.”

 

The disdain in his voice was clear. Jensen and Misha traded glances again. Why would he think the sole beta would wait on the alpha, and why would that be so appalling?

 

“You think he was taking sexual advantage of the beta?” Jensen demanded, heart racing. As horrifying as the thought was, a tiny part of him was smug. He _knew_ Alyonis wasn’t to be trusted.

 

The harbourmaster scrunched up his nose. “Uh, begging your pardon, Your Highness, but why would you ask that? He was frightfully ugly, but homosexuality’s a sin in Alyonis, so I’ve heard.”

 

“Ugly?” Misha repeated.

 

“A sin?” Jensen echoed. 

 

The beta looked slightly alarmed at this, and Jensen couldn’t blame him, but he was too anxious to reassure him.

 

“The ship was definitely from Alyonis?”

 

“I’m certain, Your Highness.”

 

“But the prince with them, the one who claims to be a prince…”

 

“He’s an omega?” Misha asked, when it became apparent that Jensen couldn’t.

 

“There was no mistaking it,” the harbourmaster said, a trifle indignantly now. “I know what I saw.”

 

“The prince we’re hosting is supposed to be an alpha,” Jensen choked out, and as one, he and Misha ran from the building, despite knowing how rude it was. They had to get back to the palace _now._


	3. Chapter 3

“We already know that, Jensen,” his beta father said. He’d listened without interrupting after Jensen had appeared, sweaty and dishevelled from the journey home, and demanded a private audience, but it was clear that his patience was at an end. “They arrived last night.”

 

“What?” Jensen and Baby had pushed themselves to their limits to get here, only pausing for a few hours overnight. Jensen hadn’t even tended to her as he usually did when they finally reached the palace, instead handing her reins off to one of the stable hands. How had that wretched ship managed to beat them?

 

They must not have stopped overnight either, Jensen thought grimly. They were either remarkably brave or exceptionally foolish, to push themselves to cover such distances in waters they supposedly didn’t know. Why had they been so desperate to get here? 

 

Gilbert misunderstood Jensen’s anger. “I know. Alyonis’ useless queen might have warned us she wasn’t sending an alpha, like we’d agreed, but your sire won’t pay any attention. He thinks it’s _brave_ to send an omega instead, and shows that they trust us even more.”

 

He only referred to Mitchell as Jensen’s “sire” when he was truly annoyed. Jensen sensed he should proceed cautiously here. As relieved as he was to hear that the person claiming to be Alyonis’ prince wasn’t an imposter, he decided not to show it.

 

“Is he as ugly as they say?” he asked instead. Gilbert was renowned for his beauty, and might enjoy the opportunity to sneer at a younger omega. Usually, omegas were the ones considered more attractive than betas, though they were also rumoured to be less faithful.

 

Jensen did his best to wrench his thoughts away from Matt, where they always seemed to wander these days. It didn’t matter that Matt was gorgeous, faithful, and from a powerful family. It wasn’t to be.

 

“I didn’t get a good look at him,” Gilbert was saying, sounding even more annoyed. “He was still buried under all that ridiculous fabric.” Jensen raised his eyebrows, surprised, but his beta father didn’t notice. “I don’t know if they think they’re being funny, or if they’re just stupid, but sending their omega son to us in the colour that prostitutes wear…! Do they think _we_ only host prostitutes?”

 

Jensen wanted to question Gilbert further, but knew it would be a bad decision. Gilbert’s looks were only matched by his temper. While Alaina and Jensen were more like their alpha father, their anger explosive but quick to die down, Katherine had inherited Gilbert’s ability to nurse a slow, simmering grudge.

 

Jensen bowed. “Thank you for your time, Father,” he said carefully. “I’m sorry to have wasted it.”

 

Gilbert waved an airy hand, his fingers long and slim and unmottled. “I’m certain plenty more of my time will be wasted before this visit is over.” He fixed Jensen with a sharp gaze. “Now that you and Misha have _finally_ returned, the omega will officially be introduced to us all at dinner. Don’t be late, and for the love of the Gods, _try_ to look presentable.”

 

Jensen backed out of the chamber, guards opening the door for him, and walked away, questions buzzing around his mind like flies. Why had the prince been fully covered when arriving in the palace but not when greeting the harbourmaster? Had he sensed the southerners sneering at him? In spite of himself, Jensen felt a little sorry for him. It wasn’t the omega prince’s fault that his parents and grandparents and every generation before had been siblings. He should be judged on the basis of his character, not his looks.

 

But why had he entered Val Deauvin dressed in red? Was his beta father right, and Alyonis was mocking them? What room did a kingdom that mated _siblings_ have to judge them? Besides, no one in Jensen’s family had ever been a prostitute, and while some of Jensen’s ancestors (his alpha father included) had been known to occasionally visit some of the nearby brothels, no child had ever resulted from it and no beta spouse had ever objected. What could Alyonis mean by it?

 

To Jensen’s surprise, when he reached his bedroom, suddenly exhausted and in desperate need of a bath, Misha was waiting there. By the looks of him, he hadn’t been acquainted with soap and water either.

 

The guards weren’t quite trusting enough to let Misha enter Jensen’s bedroom without him, but they let him follow without question, used to the unusual friendship between the northern and southern princes by now.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jensen said, as soon as they were alone. Accustomed as most of the palace now were to the two of them rarely leaving the other’s side, hearing one of them apologise freely to the other might still be a shock. “I made us ride here without stopping, and there wasn’t any need to.”

 

Misha shook his head, dragging a hand through his greasy dark hair. “If there _had_ been a need, they all would have been very grateful to you.” He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t suppose your beta father thanked you, though.”

 

Jensen forced a laugh, trying to play off his own hurt. “You know it’s not in his nature. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made my alpha father thank _him_ after accepting his proposal.” He paused. “How did you know it was him I spoke to?”

 

“Erica said that your alpha father and Alaina were both still out hunting, and that we’re all going to meet Alyonis’ prince at –”

 

“Dinner tonight. My beta father told me that too.” Jensen frowned thoughtfully. “Do you think dinner tonight was always the plan, or were they waiting for us?”

 

Misha snorted. “I don’t think we’re the important ones, do you?”

 

They shared the smiles of two secondary heirs, familiar with having to deal with all of the scrutiny but none of the power.

 

“We might be,” Jensen said, crossing to his bed and lying down on it, in spite of his dirty clothes. After a moment’s hesitation, Misha joined him. “I wonder why they sent an omega instead of an alpha?”  

 

“Whatever the reason, I’m sure it was the plan all along.” Misha’s normally cheerful voice was dark. “We can’t trust Alyonis.”

 

Jensen glanced at him in surprise, and then reached out for him. “Misha…” he said softly.

 

Misha shrugged him off, but only after a few seconds of allowing the contact.

 

“I’m sure the omega you met didn’t know who you were,” Jensen said, trying not to show how much he was struggling. He’d never been very good at comforting people with words. Physical gestures or thoughtful presents came much easier to him.

 

“You didn’t even meet him,” Misha said tiredly, “and you know as well as I do that he was from Alyonis.” He sighed. “I just feel like such an idiot. I’m sure he’s still laughing at me now, and, knowing my luck, he’s probably Prince Jared’s closest companion, and I’ll have to see him all the time.”

 

Jensen frowned. “Why would he be laughing at you?”

 

Misha reddened, and rolled onto his back so that he was staring at the ceiling. “You’d have thought all my brains had dripped out of my skull if you’d seen me,” he said, just as Jensen was starting to think he wasn’t going to answer. “I just… gawped at him. I’d seen someone staring at you and Matt, and I’d gone over to find out who they were and what they wanted, and then he turned around and I could barely remember my own _name_. What a great impression of Montisierre _that_ must have given him.”

 

Jensen hesitated, pondering the wisdom of his next words. “He might not have realized where you were from,” he said carefully. “You were speaking the southern tongue, weren’t you?” Misha nodded. “You know how impressed everyone here is by your lack of an accent…”

 

Misha finally cracked a tiny smile. “So he might think a gibbering fool is more representative of your country than mine? He’d be right.”

 

Jensen shoved him for that, but was glad to see Misha in better spirits. Thinking back to all the conversations they’d had about Matt, he couldn’t help adding, “He might genuinely have been attracted to –”

 

Misha shook his head firmly, cutting Jensen off. “It’s obvious now he was just toying with me. I thought he was equally speechless because he felt the same, but he was just mocking me. Why would someone who looks like him be awed by someone who looks like me?”

 

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Misha, shut up. Most of the betas in this kingdom would say yes in a heartbeat if you asked for their hand in marriage, no matter how cold Montisierre is.”

 

“All of the betas _and_ the omegas would say yes in a fraction of a heartbeat if _you_ asked, even though Alaina’s the heir,” Misha shot back. He groaned. “I wish you’d met him instead of me. You wouldn’t have been so stupid, and then Alyonis would know we’re not to be trifled with.”

 

“I’ll probably meet him tonight,” Jensen said with a shrug. “Assuming the prince’s retinue accompany him to dinner.” He felt a flicker of unease. “You don’t think he’ll recognise _me_ , do you?”

 

“Uh…” Misha’s face suggested that Jensen wouldn’t like the answer. “It was dark,” he added feebly. “And he wasn’t that close to you…”

 

Jensen groaned too.

 

“Look,” Misha said, sitting up, “what does it matter if he does? It’s his word against ours. We can both just deny ever meeting him. Who do you think our families will believe, us or a servant of Alyonis?”

 

Jensen smiled slightly at that, and then frowned. “He might be a noble instead of a servant –”

 

“He’s from Alyonis, and you and I are the princes of Val Deauvin and Montisierre,” Misha said firmly. “We have the upper hand.” He sighed. “I still wish I didn’t have to see him again. His _eyes_ … Promise you’ll poke me with your sword if I start to drool?”

 

Jensen snorted. “I promise.” He paused, as another question rose to mind. “Why do you think the Alyonis delegation were even there in the first place?”

 

Misha furrowed his forehead as he thought about this. “Could they have run out of supplies? That harbourmaster didn’t mention giving them anything, but maybe he would have if we hadn’t run out… and that ruby was a bit excessive just for allowing them to anchor, don’t you think?”  

 

“Maybe,” Jensen said. “But it’s possible to sail from the capital to Alyonis without needing to stop…” He could have bitten his own tongue off once he realised what he’d said.

 

Misha gazed back for a long moment. He cleared his throat. “It’s possible to sail from the northernmost point of Montisierre to Alyonis without needing to stop too,” he said softly.

 

Jensen blinked at him gratefully. It was centuries of long and bloody warfare between their countries that allowed them both to know that, but while Jensen hadn’t meant to share that information, Misha had offered it up, keeping them both equal.

 

“Maybe they didn’t ration their supplies very well,” Jensen said, hoping to steer the conversation into safer waters.

 

“Maybe,” Misha said. “Though… that does seem out of character for them, doesn’t it? And I can’t see them accepting anything like food or water from us. They’d probably suspect us of tampering with it.” He paused for a long moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “I know it’s not rational, but it’s like they somehow _knew_ we were there.”

 

Jensen felt cold at just the thought. “They couldn’t have.”

 

“I know. I said it wasn’t rational.” Misha sighed and stood up. “This speculation isn’t getting us anywhere. Perhaps there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, and they’ll share it with us tonight at dinner.”

 

“Perhaps,” Jensen echoed, sounding just as doubtful. Misha was almost at the door before he summoned up the nerve to ask, “Do you really think Alyonis can’t be trusted?”

 

Misha glanced over his shoulder, surprised. His eyes darkened. “I think,” he said slowly, “if it weren’t for them, our countries would have been friends long ago.” 

 

Jensen mulled this over as Misha slipped out of the door. As close as the two of them were, this might be one of the few areas they disagreed. Alyonis had never aided Val Deauvin, but nor had they aided Montisierre. Had their two countries joined together, Alyonis would have been nothing but ruins centuries ago, but they’d never been able to forge a lasting alliance. Misha might feel Alyonis was to blame for that, and perhaps Alyonis was less than innocent, but Jensen couldn’t help thinking that only one of the three kingdoms had invaded Val Deauvin, and it hadn’t been Alyonis.

 

Still, it was all in the past now. One only had to look at him and Misha to see the future of Montisierre and Val Deauvin. Either Misha would marry Katherine, or Jensen would marry Erica, and, this time, the alliance would hold strong. Nothing Alyonis said or did could change that.

 

Jensen opened his door and asked one of the guards to send for a servant, determined to finally have that hot bath. He wondered what Prince Jared and his beautiful companion were doing right now. If seemed odd to have a companion so striking when the prince was supposedly so ugly, and Jensen couldn’t help feeling anxious to meet them both.

 

*

 

Jared tilted his head back blissfully as his attendant, Genevieve, massaged his scalp. Val Deauvin had _hot running water_! Jared’s kingdom had recently installed pipes, so running water existed in the palace, most of the nobles’ homes, and at least one other building in every far-flung village (Samantha had been very firm, insisting that everyone in the kingdom should benefit from this wonder of technology), but it wasn’t heated. He longed to know how Val Deauvin had accomplished it, but he hadn’t yet figured out a way of asking that didn’t involve revealing Alyonis’ shortcoming. 

 

Not that there had been many people to ask. They’d arrived late the night before, and had intended to spend one final night on the ship, but southern guards had been waiting on the dock for them, and had escorted them to the palace. Jared had thought southern castles were all built far in-land, but either that intelligence had always been wrong or Val Deauvin had been busy, because it didn’t take long to get there at all. Despite the hour, King-Consort Gilbert, a striking older beta, had been there to greet them, apologising for his husband’s absence and offering to send orders to the palace kitchens if they wished to dine. They’d all been more tired than hungry, however, and the husband of Val Deauvin’s king had instead arranged for them to be led to their rooms. Jared had remembered just in time to ask for an attendant, which Lady Loretta relayed. King-Consort Gilbert’s eyebrows had threatened to disappear into his lustrous hair, but he’d found one with seemingly no difficulty. Jared had felt a flicker of surprise when Genevieve, a dark-haired and dark-eyed beta, appeared, but reminded himself not to be so prejudiced. If he’d wanted an omega attendant, he should have brought one from his own kingdom, where they appeared to be in much larger supply.  

 

He'd dismissed Genevieve until the following day, and, after tucking a small dagger underneath his pillow as was his ritual at home, fell asleep almost instantly. The room he’d been given was much larger than his own room, with a balcony and a bed big enough that Milo, Jake, Justin, and Adrianne could probably have squeezed in beside him. Almost everything in the room, from the picture frames to the bedposts, seemed to be made of gold. Jared wondered if they’d deliberately put him in their grandest room, or if all the rooms were like this. Val Deauvin were said to have the greatest collection of gold mines in the three kingdoms, after all.

 

Breakfast (or perhaps lunch, given how much sunlight there was when he drew back the curtains) had been brought to him, with a note inquiring how he’d slept, and inviting him to dine with all of the southern and northern royals that evening. Jared, anxious by both what lay ahead and the assortment of unknown dishes in front of him, had only picked at the meal. Captain Harris, whose room adjoined to his, had tried to explain what everything was, but even she had been uncertain with a few. While breakfast in Alyonis tended to be hot, Val Deauvin had served a mixture of fruit, cheese and cold meat. At Jared’s urging, Captain Harris had happily eaten what he couldn’t stomach, so at least Val Deauvin wouldn’t be offended by his lack of appetite.

 

Summoning Genevieve back only added to his difficulties. She’d been quick to appear, with a gracious curtsey, but his retinue had unanimously agreed that she shouldn’t be left alone with him. She was neither an omega nor from Alyonis. After much discussion, it was agreed that Lieutenant Bledel and Lady Loretta would stay in the room, an alpha to keep an eye on the southern beta, and an Alyonis beta to keep an eye on the alpha. Jared was starting to regret not bringing his own attendant.

 

Genevieve had run the bath, filling it full of bubbles at Lady Loretta’s request, and Jared had slipped into it while everyone else looked away. He could feel himself blushing, and hoped they’d assume the heat was the cause.  

 

Once he was submerged, though, he stopped wishing that he’d brought his own attendant. Genevieve showed none of the restraint his own servants did when it came to touching him, instead digging into his shoulders and back with her small hands, seeking out the knots there with ruthless efficiency. She had a selection of Val Deauvin toiletries with her, but accepted the soap he’d brought with him from Alyonis without complaint, and covered his eyes with her hand as she poured water over his hair. Not a word passed between any of them, but Jared had begun to relax in her company all the same.

 

Unfortunately, that only meant his mind was free to find other topics to worry about, and it had settled on _that alpha_ , as Jared had begun calling him in his head. Not long after returning to the ship, his stomach had begun to cramp in an all too familiar way. Determined to ignore it, Jared had curled up and tried to return to sleep, but he was forced to admit defeat when his pyjama bottoms grew slick. His last heat had only been a month ago, and it was impossible for him to be having another, yet he was showing signs of it all the same. Thank the Goddess for Amy’s herbs. Submerging them in hot water and swallowing them down soon restored him, but didn’t explain why he’d gone into heat in the first place. With no other alternatives, Jared was forced to conclude _that alpha_ had done something to him.

 

What, though? Even if Val Deauvin did have some way of propelling an omega into heat when it wasn’t their time (and Jared wouldn’t put it past them), _that alpha_ hadn’t touched him. Jared could envisage a substance smeared on an alpha’s hands or mouth that might force a heat, but (and his face burned as he thought about it) that was impossible in his case. Could it be a _scent_ that an alpha sprayed on themselves? Jared hadn’t gotten close enough to know what _that alpha_ smelled of (though he was sure it was everything good in the world – ugh, stop thinking like that), but maybe the scent could still affect him?

 

Had that been what happened to that other omega? Had what Jared thought to be a passionate and romantic liaison actually been rape? With a trusted alpha, a heat could supposedly be a wondrous affair (Jared had more than once thought it had better be, given all the suffering heats caused omegas), but heats also turned omegas desperate, making them more inclined to say yes to someone they might otherwise refuse. It wasn’t hard to imagine an unscrupulous alpha devising a substance they could use to their advantage.

 

Had that omega needed rescuing, and Jared had abandoned him? The thought threatened to choke him.  

 

“Jared?” Lady Loretta’s sweet voice called him back from the brink. “Are you ready to get dressed now?”

 

“What?” Jared blinked at her, and then twisted around to face Genevieve, who looked uncomfortable. “Oh, yes, sorry!” He reached for the towel Genevieve offered, and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

 

To his surprise, she blushed deeply, and dropped her gaze to her hands. Jared’s gaze flitted anxiously to Lieutenant Bledel and Lady Loretta, but the former was still staring unblinkingly at Genevieve and Lady Loretta was admiring the ceiling fresco, which depicted a herd of lions – Val Deauvin’s national animal.

 

He’d ask Captain Harris when he next saw her what faux pas he’d committed. Maybe you weren’t meant to make eye contact with southern servants? Jared thought that to be more than a little arrogant, but if it was what Genevieve was used to, he didn’t want to discomfort her – and not offending his hosts was also a worthy aim.  

 

Thankfully, his bedroom came equipped with a screen, which Jared could disappear behind to rub lotion on his skin (countless poems existed on the topic of omegas’ skin, but Jared personally thought there was little difference between alpha, beta, and omega – omegas were just held to higher beauty standards. He’d often told himself he was going to lead by example and stop bowing to convention, but he always changed his mind when a prime opportunity presented itself. He was representing Alyonis… he’d feel better if his skin was soft and lightly scented) and dress in the outfit his mother had helped him choose. He needed help with the sash around his waist, but when he emerged, intending to ask Lady Loretta, Genevieve instantly stepped forward. In spite of her lithe form, she was able to pull as tightly as Milo had whenever Jared asked for help, and, even though Lady Loretta corrected her a few times in regards to the exact knot they wanted, the end result was perfect. Omegas cinching their waists to the extent it caused rib damage was thankfully now out of fashion in Alyonis, but the trend was still for the fabric covering the waist to be a different colour to the rest of the outfit. Jared’s sash was black, along with his trousers, while his shirt was red.

 

His hair took longer – when it was finally dry, Genevieve smoothed Alyonis lotion through it, and then brushed until he began to feel like a horse. He did his make-up himself, lightly outlining his eyes and rouging his cheeks and lips. Amy was always immaculate, but Jeff had never bothered much, and Jared had ended up somewhere between the two, with Adrianne and Jake following Jeff’s lead more than Amy’s. His small ruby earrings and black choker with a larger ruby in the centre completed the outfit. As a display of wealth, it would be impressive in Alyonis, but certainly not in Val Deauvin. That was the point, though. Val Deauvin needed to think of them as a small, supportive ally, not as a competitor. Montisierre already filled that position.

 

A tiny part of him wished there was an omega in Montisierre or Val Deauvin’s royal families. It would be useful to have a fashion role model – beta and omega trends rarely overlapped much.

 

Jared took a deep breath. He’d already met King-Consort Gilbert. He just had to meet another two betas and four alphas. The Montisierre royal family had an alpha and a beta, while Val Deauvin’s royal family had two alphas and a beta from a union of an alpha and a beta. Jared had studied what they knew about the other two kingdoms extensively, and he recited the names now to calm himself.

_Val Deauvin: King Mitchell, King-Consort Gilbert, Crown Princess Alaina, Prince Jensen, and Princess Katherine._

_Montisierre: Prince Misha and Crown Princess Erica, with their uncle Acting-King Timothy currently ruling._  

 

Captain Harris emerged, trading places with Lieutenant Bledel, and smiled at him. “You look beautiful, Your Highness.”

 

“Thank you.” Jared’s gaze flickered to Genevieve. “Though Genevieve’s the one you should really be praising.”

 

To his surprise, Genevieve raised her head and smiled brightly at him. “It’s easy when you have a good canvas,” she said, and then turned red again and looked away.

 

Jared immediately looked to Captain Harris, wanting an explanation, but the alpha was watching Genevieve. Now that Jared thought about it, Captain Harris had stared rather intently the night before too, but he’d assumed she was just sizing up his attendant.

 

Could it be more? Could it be that Captain Harris, who was known for breaking hearts across Alyonis (though never cruelly), had fallen for someone? Looking between them, Jared thought Captain Harris and Genevieve would make a striking couple.

 

He reached for his veil, and noticed the tiny flicker across Genevieve’s face. “What?” he asked, concerned.

 

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. She swallowed when he gazed pleadingly at her. “It’s just… none of the royals here veil themselves, and the Val Deauvin citizens that do don’t veil themselves like that. Even the most devout don’t cover their eyes.”

 

“It’s Alyonis’ way,” Captain Harris commented mildly.

_Alyonis’,_ Jared noted. Not _ours._

 

“Do you think that I shouldn’t veil myself?” he asked Genevieve.

 

“It’s not my place to answer that, Your Highness,” she answered softly.

 

“You can call me Jared,” he said gently, but the stubborn look that flitted across her face suggested she would be no more amenable to this suggestion than Captain Harris. Jared had to bite down on his tongue to stop his smile. They were more well-suited than they perhaps realised.

 

Turning back to the mirror, Jared met Lady Loretta’s eyes in the reflection and nodded. She was instantly by his side, helping him to attach the veil.

_I will do whatever I can to cement an alliance between our kingdoms,_ Jared thought to himself. _But I will not give up all that makes Alyonis who she is._

 

Myrtle chose that moment to swoop down from where she’d been sleeping on top of a cupboard. Genevieve’s eyes went huge as she got her first proper look at the dragon, but she didn’t say anything.

 

Jared stroked a fond finger across her head, and smiled when she made a purring noise in return. Omegas could purr too, unlike alphas or betas. No one really knew why, though Jared had read southern scientific articles that argued the trait proved omegas were more primitive. Articles published in Alyonis suggested that it was a way of enticing alphas and encouraging them to be kind, faithful mates – true purring only happened involuntarily when an omega was happy. It wasn’t impossible to fake, though. Jared would like to say that he hadn’t purred since Milo’s disappearance, but in truth it had been before that. Even when they were still in the same room, Milo had been distancing himself.

 

Having Myrtle by his side… it made him believe that he might one day be capable of purring again.

 

Annoyingly, _that alpha_ flitted across his mind once again. _Forget him, and the other one_ , Jared thought. _Goddess protect that omega, but there’s nothing I can do now. It’s not like I’m ever going to see either of them again._

 

Myrtle made an odd chittering noise, but when he looked at her, she declined to elaborate.

 

*

 

“We welcome you to Val Deauvin, Omega-Prince Jared.”

 

Jared smiled, though of course it was impossible for them to tell. He appreciated King Mitchell’s slow and clear speech. The alpha was much older than his beta husband, but he had a kindly expression, though it only slightly abated Jared’s nerves. He hoped they couldn’t tell how much he was shaking.

 

“You’ve already met my mate, Gilbert, and now I would like to present my children, my eldest and heir apparent Alaina…”

 

An alpha with shoulder-length blonde hair and an impressive array of medals along her shirt stepped forward and bowed.

 

“My middle child, Jensen…”

 

Prince Jensen bowed too quickly for Jared to get a good look at his face, but it was obvious he was the tallest of his siblings, just like Jared. Ridiculous as it was, Jared couldn’t help warming to him because of it. Then the alpha straightened up, and Jared had to hope his veil muffled the sound of his gasp.

 

Princess Alaina had been striking, but while Jared was able to notice that on an aesthetic level and move on, Prince Jensen made Jared feel reluctant to blink. The combination of his broad shoulders, his stance perfectly displaying the medals he wore, fewer in number than his sister’s but only just, and startlingly green eyes was doing funny things to Jared’s insides, not to mention his full, strong mouth…

 

Wait a minute.

 

Wait.

 

Could it be…?

 

“… And my youngest and only beta, Princess Katherine.”

 

She stepped forward, but she was perhaps hindered by the salmon-pink gown she wore, because the curtsey she gave wasn’t nearly as deep as either of her siblings’ bows. Princess Katherine was as beautiful as Princess Alaina and Prince Jensen were handsome, but Jared was ashamed to say that he only gave her a cursory glance, enough to note that she had long blonde hair like her sister and green eyes like her brother, though somehow not quite as captivating. Against his will, his gaze kept straying to Jensen, the knot in his stomach growing bigger and bigger.

 

It was the alpha. Not _that alpha_ , but the other one. The one with the omega. It had been dark and Jared had stared at him for less than a minute, but he was certain. It was impossible for Val Deauvin to have two alphas that remarkable, and King Mitchell hadn’t mentioned a twin…

 

The word sent a sudden stab of pain through Jared’s heart, but it at least helped him focus.

_Get a grip! So what if it is that alpha? Just make sure that Adrianne gets to mate the northern prince instead if you’re able to negotiate a marriage contract._

 

On cue, King Mitchell turned to two figures on the other side of him. Jared forced himself to keep looking at the king, and not to his middle child, taking slow, deep breaths. He was more grateful than ever for his veil – it gave him a chance to compose himself. At least there shouldn’t be any more unpleasant surprises. They were nearly done with the introductions.  

 

“And now let me introduce my wards from Montisierre, Crown Princess Erica…”

 

The northern beta had long dark hair and a sparkling silver dress that Jared instantly coveted. A shirt in that exact fabric would suit multiple occasions, and would look just as good on him and Milo as it would on their blonder relatives, Jake, Justin, and Adrianne. Jared idly wondered if he’d ever become close enough to the princess to ask her the name of her dressmaker. She swept a deep curtsey and smiled warmly at him, even though she couldn’t see his reaction.

_Right, that’s it. When I get home, I’m telling everyone that Montisierre’s clearly the superior ally._

 

Myrtle, who’d remained in his room, content to meet their hosts on a separate occasion, made a sound like a snort in his mind.

 

“… And her older brother, Prince Misha.”

 

Ah, yes. Inheritance in Montisierre was done through the beta, while for Alyonis it was through the alpha and for Val Deauvin simply the eldest. Jared assumed that was why King Mitchell had emphasized that Princess Erica’s brother was the firstborn. In both Val Deauvin and Alyonis, he would have been the heir. Jared wondered if that irritated Prince Misha or merely reassured him of Montisierre’s superiority.

 

Dragging his eyes away again from Prince Jensen, Jared glanced over at Montisierre’s alpha, who’d swept a bow as deep as his sister’s curtsy. His outfit consisted of a white and pale blue pattern, and he filled it out just as well as Prince Jensen did. Jared bit down hard on his bottom lip. Clearly, he was still feeling the after-effects of his heat, otherwise he wouldn’t be behaving so idiotically.

 

Then Prince Misha straightened up, and Jared just had time to note that he was as dark-haired and blue-eyed as his sister, before his heart stopped beating altogether.

 

It was _that alpha._

 

“Alyonis thanks you for your greeting,” Lady Loretta answered. Jared was so grateful she was speaking that he could have cried, because he couldn’t have said a word if his life depended on it. “We are deeply grateful for the opportunity to meet both Val Deauvin and Montisierre like this, and for the chance to establish a new era of peace and prosperity between our three kingdoms.”

 

Jared remembered hearing Samantha and Jeff debate endlessly over those words, determined to get the speech exactly right, but it was as though he was underwater hearing someone speak. His eyes veered endlessly between Prince Jensen and Prince Misha, his mouth dry, his heart pounding. 

_They tricked me_ , he reminded himself, lumping Prince Jensen in with Prince Misha without a second’s hesitation now that he knew they were acquainted, and yet all he could wonder was how their lips would taste when pressed against his.  

 

“… We would like to present Queen Samantha’s eldest omega, Prince Jared, who volunteered to go in his brother’s place when Alpha-Prince Milo was unfortunately too ill to travel. Omegas are the foundation of Alyonis, and we place him under your protection.”  

 

“Of course,” King Mitchell said, a little too easily. It seemed churlish to protest his acquiescence though, especially when the words were merely symbolic. It was Captain Harris that Jared was relying upon, not King Mitchell.

 

He reached for his veil, proud when his hands didn’t shake. Countless hours of practicing paid off, and the veil unwound easily. He glanced down at the ground as he removed it from his head completely, and then looked up, preparing to weave the veil through his sash.

 

Princess Alaina’s face was unrevealing, but King-Consort Gilbert, Princess Katherine, and Princess Erica all looked shocked, and King Mitchell’s mouth was hanging open.

 

“It’s you,” Prince Misha breathed, just as Jared had summoned up the courage to glance at him.

 

At the same time, Prince Jensen blurted out, amazed, “You’re not ugly.”

 

*

 

“You should write a book, Jensen,” Princess Katherine murmured as the soup was served, eyes gleaming. “The title could be, _How to offend omegas in five syllables or less._ ”

 

“Prince Jared might not have understood,” Princess Erica said, jumping in to defend Jensen when it became apparent that no one else would. She hesitated, no doubt remembering as everyone else was how fluent he had seemed when speaking to King Mitchell. “And, even if he did,” she continued, rallying, “he might take it as a compliment.” She fixed her brother with an unblinking stare. “You, on the other hand…”

 

Prince Misha quickly shoved a hunk of bread in his mouth, hoping that if he occupied himself with food as Jensen was doing their younger sisters might lose interest. No such luck, of course.

 

“Where do you know him from?” Katherine asked. The four of them were at one end of the long table, with Jensen’s parents and older sister in the centre and Prince Jared and his retinue at the other end, but they whispered all the same.

 

Misha’s gaze flickered to Jensen before he could stop himself, but the other alpha didn’t betray him by so much as a blink. “I don’t,” he said, trying to sound confident. “He just looked familiar for a second, that’s all.” He almost added, in a fit of inspiration, that the prince looked like a carving he’d once seen of the God of Love, one of the Montisierre pantheon, but managed to stop himself just in time. Katherine might believe that, but Erica certainly wouldn’t.

 

Erica’s eyes narrowed. “Why did you look at Jensen before you said that?”   

 

“Am I not allowed to look at him anymore?” Misha demanded. “What about Katherine, can I look at her?” He was willing to tell Erica the truth later, but he shrivelled up at the thought of appearing even more vulnerable in front of Katherine. Jensen’s younger sister may be the only beta, but to Misha she was far more intimidating than either of her alpha siblings.

 

Erica stared at him for a long moment, then dissolved into a fit of giggles. “There’s no need to be such a grump. I’m sure Prince Jared will forgive you both for being so rude.” She daintily swallowed a spoonful of soup, and then giggled again. “I never thought I’d see the day you pair couldn’t charm an omega.”

 

“It figures you’d lose your silver tongues at the very moment they’d be most useful,” Katherine said pointedly. 

 

“Our alpha father had enough of a silver tongue for all three of us.” Jensen spoke for the first time since that disastrous introduction, but kept his eyes on his plate. Misha wished they were alone so they could talk freely, but that evidently wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

 

“It’s just as well he did,” Katherine shot back. “No one else knew how to redeem the situation.”

 

The moment following Jensen and Misha’s outbursts had felt like it lasted an eternity. Misha hoped it was really only a few seconds. The prince’s translator, Lady Loretta, who’d seemed so confident and unruffled in the beginning, had stared at them, lips parted in shock, and the head of the prince’s guards, Captain Harris, had scowled as she tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword. It had taken years to get to this moment, and it had been ruined in seconds.   

 

As for Prince Jared… Misha’s memory hadn’t done him justice. In the light of the southerners’ great dining hall, he was even more beautiful, all long, shiny hair and delicate features. The clothes he’d wore were far less revealing than the single layer he’d had on before (though, oddly, still just as red), but they showcased his tall, slender build almost as well. Misha hadn’t ever seen a carving that resembled him, of course, but it was easy to imagine one existing all the same.  He didn’t have Erica’s faith in their gods, but he’d worship at that altar.

 

Prince Jared had looked anxious as he’d gazed up at them from under long eyelashes, and he’d paled when Misha spoke, or perhaps when Jensen did, but – and this was the thought that Misha kept returning to, no matter how much he ached to sneak glances up the table at Alyonis’ prince – he hadn’t looked _surprised_ …

 

King Mitchell had saved the day. Later, if this moment ever became something they could laugh about, Misha might comment that he’d never seen that one coming. Gilbert had always seemed the more intelligent and diplomatic one out of Jensen’s parents, though he hadn’t been born to royalty. Misha would only say that to Jensen or Erica, though – Mitchell and Gilbert had taken him and Erica in when they didn’t have to, and he owed them much more than he could ever repay.

 

Stepping forward, King Mitchell had taken Prince Jared’s hands in his own, and smiled warmly. “It’s good to see you. I’d heard rumours of your beauty – for once the gossips were right. Welcome again to Val Deauvin.”

 

Even now, Misha still wanted to roll his eyes. What rumours? All anyone had spoken about was how ugly the prince was. Either people like that harbourmaster needed glasses, or no one (except him, he thought, with an odd twist in his stomach) had seen Prince Jared without his veil, and simply assumed he was covering up a deformity instead of being pious. It was safe to say that Misha had learned his lesson. Anything else he accepted as fact about Alyonis would need to be verified by Prince Jared himself, who’d smiled back at King Mitchell, revealing he had dimples. Misha had wanted to stick his tongue in one.

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he’d said sweetly. “You’re very kind.”

 

“Just very honest.” King Mitchell had yet to let go, and out of the corner of his eye, Misha noticed King-Consort Gilbert beginning to glare. “What do you think of my kingdom so far? I’m sorry that your brother couldn’t attend.” He hadn’t sounded particularly sorry, though.  

 

“He sends his apologies, Your Majesty. He was looking forward to seeing such a glorious country. You must be a very great king to command the respect of so many people.”

 

Misha had gritted his teeth. As flattery went, it was utterly shameless, but that was just the kind King Mitchell preferred.

 

“I’m glad you like it. We’re so pleased that you were able to visit.” Finally, reluctantly, King Mitchell had released the prince, and commanded that dinner be served. Misha was surprised Prince Jared had tolerated having an alpha old enough to be his sire clutch at him for so long, but perhaps Alyonis was not as prudish as both Val Deauvin and Montisierre characterized her as. Perhaps nothing they knew about Alyonis was true.

 

“He knew exactly what to say to impress your alpha father,” Erica commented mildly. If Misha or Jensen had made that exact point, Katherine would have argued the opposite, but she merely nodded when the words came from her best friend, nose wrinkling.

 

“A pity those words didn’t have the same effect on my beta father, isn’t it?” she commented dryly. “If the prince had fluttered his eyelashes a little less, he could have won the respect of both my parents. The Gods obviously didn’t burden him with an abundance of intelligence. I suppose it makes sense, though – Alyonis always lets an alpha inherit, so he must be used to flirting with his alpha relatives to get what he wants.”

 

Erica choked on her mouthful, and had to reach hastily for her goblet. “I wish you hadn’t said that.” Her eyes flickered to the end of the table, but Misha resolutely refused to do the same. “Do you think the rest of his family looks like that?”

 

Katherine snorted. “Of course not. I bet his brother’s ugly as sin, and that’s why they sent him instead.” Her gaze moved thoughtfully between Jensen and Misha, her lips coiling into a smirk. “Do you think they might be on the hunt for some much-needed new genes?” 

 

“I think,” Jensen said firmly, finally raising his head, “we should talk about something else.”

 

Katherine shrugged prettily, the gesture highlighting the creaminess of her shoulders. “If you insist. I suppose even if he was, neither of you are a particularly attractive option – I imagine an alpha that goes stupid every time he enters a room might get boring after a while.”

 

“They’re the best options for him in the three kingdoms!” Erica protested half-heartedly. “And they were just surprised, as we all were – who knew generations of incest could produce someone who looks like _that_?”

 

Misha nudged her under the table, grateful for her support, but wishing like Jensen they could move to a different conversation topic. “I hope you’re not getting any ideas.”

 

Erica laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on establishing a similar tradition.”

 

“I’m not sure Jensen and Misha are the _best_ options,” Katherine said, ignoring Jensen’s groan.

 

“Well, the best feasible options,” Erica said. “It’s not like he can marry Alaina.”

 

Katherine looked to the other end of the table. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s my alpha father he’s after. Do you think he’s really a virgin? Maybe we were wrong about him on two counts.”

 

“He’s not after –” Misha began heatedly, even as he knew the fire that erupted inside of him at the thought of King Mitchell and Prince Jared entwined was ridiculous. Even if it happened, his first concern should be how that would impact Montisierre, and not…

 

“Our father shouldn’t be salivating over an omega young enough to be his child –” Jensen argued, his tone of voice surprisingly similar to Misha’s. Maybe Jensen was offended on Gilbert’s behalf.

 

“King Mitchell would be the worst possible choice for him,” Erica said, her voice softer and gentler but somehow managing to silence them both. Unlike Jensen or Misha, Erica would one day rule a kingdom. “No offence meant, of course, but any children they had wouldn’t be able to inherit above the three of you.”

 

“Perhaps they intend to kill us,” Katherine said, twirling her fork thoughtfully. “Then the Alyonis spawn could rule Val Deauvin.”  

 

“I’m pretty sure Gilbert would kill the prince first,” Erica said, and Katherine laughed in agreement. It had been over a century since the last polyamorous relationship in the southern royal family, and more than three centuries since the last successful one. Unlike Montisierre, where the beta ruler always mated multiple alphas, polyamory was rare in Val Deauvin, and non-existent (at least as far as they knew) in Alyonis.

 

Finally, no longer able to resist, Misha glanced to the other end of the table. Prince Jared was smiling at King Mitchell and taking the occasional bite of food, seemingly listening intently. One look at him, and Misha felt willing to forgive him anything, but he forced his heart to harden. That was just the allure of omegas, and this one was especially potent, with so many generations of mated alpha and omega siblings. Lady Loretta had called the prince Queen Samantha’s _eldest_ omega. How many omega siblings did he have? For both northern and southern nobility, just one omega child was a sign of the Gods’ favour. There was a reason Lord Matthew Cohen had so many suitors, and it wasn’t just down to his good looks and family name. To have multiple omega children was unthinkable, and yet it was the reality of Prince Jared’s family.

 

That made him dangerous. Somehow, he’d found both Jensen and Misha in a small southern port, and managed to fluster each of them the first time they saw him. Given how accustomed they were to meeting beautiful children of southern nobility eager to join their families together, and given how many nights Jensen had spent wrapped in Matthew’s arms, sometimes with Misha at the other side of the bed… that wasn’t natural.

 

Misha studiously ignored the small voice at the back of his mind pointing out that Prince Jared hadn’t had any effect on Alaina, the next ruler of Val Deauvin and a far better target, and that even Mitchell, while clearly infatuated, wasn’t behaving out of character. He’d accepted Prince Jared at face value once. He wasn’t going to be so foolish again.

 

*

 

Jared’s face was starting to ache from smiling, and a headache was building as he tried to listen to every word King Mitchell and occasionally Princess Alaina spoke and give a suitable answer in return, but that wasn’t his main concern. He’d refused to glance at the other end of the table all throughout dinner, and yet he could feel himself growing slick. Every mouthful of food was delicious, and every sip he took of the lemonade made him want another, but his stomach had begun to cramp.

 

No. This couldn’t be happening, not again. _This wasn’t fair._ What had they done to him?

 

Yet, even as he thought that, another part of him argued that they couldn’t have done anything. The princes weren’t sitting anywhere near him, hadn’t touched him, had probably not even looked at him since that moment he removed his veil…

_Is there something in the southern air that’s affecting me?_ Jared thought, half-hysterical. _Is that why there aren’t many omegas here? Is the air itself as inhospitable to omegas as Montisierre and Val Deauvin have traditionally been to us?_

_But they’re not being inhospitable now…_

_I still need to leave._

 

Jared made a show of dropping his fork, apologised insistently, and dived for it before any of the servants could.

 

“Loretta,” he murmured, under his breath, as he reached for the utensil. Beside him, she instantly tensed. “We have to go.”

 

“Presents,” she breathed back as he resurfaced, also in their own language. Hopefully, the southerners might just think she was scolding him for being so clumsy. Then he actually processed what she said.

 

He’d forgotten about those. By the way his body was aching, there wasn’t going to be time if they waited until after dinner.

 

Lady Loretta glanced at him, and saw the desperation in his eyes. She turned back to their hosts, smiling graciously.

 

“Your Majesties, you’ve been so kind to us, and we thank you for the wonderful meal. We’re unfortunately still a little tired from the journey – perhaps we could offer our gift now, and retire to bed?”

 

“Oh, you didn’t need to bring anything,” King Mitchell said heartily, though Jared didn’t miss the flicker of greed in his eyes. “Your company alone is a greater gift than we ever expected.” 

 

“We’re very grateful that this visit could take place,” Jared said, forcing a smile. “We insist on honouring your generosity.” He was speaking slower than he normally would, and desperately hoped that it made him sound confident. The real reason was that his mind, which normally soaked up new vocabulary in the southern and northern tongues like a sponge, was sluggishly straining for words he’d been stupid enough to think that he knew like the back of his hand.

_Milo should have gone,_ he thought, sharp and clear. _This wouldn’t be happening to him._

 

He wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t also wryly think that of course it wouldn’t – Milo would never experience a heat, nor Jared a rut, even though they shared everything else. But that wasn’t what he meant, of course. If Milo had been here, this occasion would have been remembered because it was a success, not just because it was momentous. Jared was the inferior twin in every possible way, and each second that passed only made it more apparent.

 

Captain Harris, who’d sat beside him throughout dinner despite the expression on King Mitchell’s face suggesting it was unconventional for her to do so, reached carefully for one of the wooden chests at her feet and passed it to him. She smiled reassuringly, and Jared took comfort in the fact that his heat didn’t yet seem obvious to others. He was running out of time, though.

 

Jared rose to his feet, holding tightly to the chest. It wouldn’t do to drop it now, of course. King Mitchell and Princess Alaina followed his lead, with King-Consort Gilbert finishing his mouthful before doing the same.

_He doesn’t like me_ , Jared thought, but he had bigger worries. One of them was the fact that it took another few seconds before the foursome at the end of the table followed suit. Jared flicked the briefest of glances in their direction, but it was enough to confirm how natural they looked together. It took no effort at all to imagine two marriages involving a green-eyed southerner and a dark-haired northerner. What he’d travelled to Val Deauvin to try to prevent might already be inevitable.

_But I have to try._

 

He held out the chest to King Mitchell (after much debate, his parents had agreed offering it to Princess Alaina might make it seem like they were hoping for a regime change), flicking it open and trying not to flinch when the southern guards started forward in alarm. He couldn’t blame them for their caution, but his mother had been adamant that they wouldn’t accept a closed chest. 

 

“May Val Deauvin’s future be as shining and prosperous as this humble token,” he recited, summoning all his willpower to keep his voice and arms steady. The chest wasn’t exactly heavy (though neither was it insubstantial), but going into heat always made him clumsier and weaker.

 

To his delight, King Mitchell’s eyes widened and he reached into the chest to withdraw the golden ornament. He raised it up, and the rubies and emeralds of the lions’ eyes caught the light well. Even the inscrutable Princess Alaina, Jared noted with pleasure, leaned forward to examine it more closely. With an inaudible sigh of relief, Jared closed the chest and returned it to Captain Harris.

 

“This is remarkable,” King Mitchell said, rotating it slowly to admire it from all angles. “I never knew Alyonis was capable of producing such fine work.” Jared fought to keep smiling, even as a part of him itched to point out that Val Deauvin might have discovered this sooner if they’d sent fewer armies into Alyonis’ territory. “Oh! You even have our motto.”

_Our sun never sets_ was carved along the base. Personally, although he would never, ever say this, Jared thought it a little silly. Of course the Val Deauvin sun set – he had just watched it do so. He supposed it referred to their standing amongst the three kingdoms, though, and certainly they were the wealthiest… though their riches had never granted them a decisive victory against either Montisierre or Alyonis.

 

“This cub,” Princess Alaina, pointing to the one positioned on top of the lion with one long, slim finger that ended in a clipped, polished nail, “it’s eyes are red, like it’s father’s, but the others all have green eyes.” She glanced over at him, raising her eyebrows. 

 

Jared noticed that it wasn’t a question. “She’s the heir,” he explained, keeping his smile bright. The knot in his stomach lessened when she looked again at the carving, noting that the cub she’d pointed to was slightly bigger than the two siblings, who were clustered around the lioness, and smiled too.

 

“The detail’s exquisite…” she murmured. “I always believed that Alyonis didn’t have lions.”

 

Again, it wasn’t a question. It irritated him, but he wasn’t sure if his heat was just making him feel extra-sensitive. “We don’t, but we have some paintings commissioned from southern artists many years ago. I hope the likeness is close enough?”

 

“It’s perfect,” King-Consort Gilbert said, but it seemed to come through gritted teeth. “And it’s _all_ made from gold?”

 

“Of course,” Jared said lightly, forcing down the urge to bristle.

 

Alaina glanced at the other end of the table. “Jensen, Katherine, come here,” she commanded. “I’m sure it’s even more attractive up close.”

 

Val Deauvin seemed pleased with their gift, which was one issue overcome, but there were still a few more to deal with before he could retire. He glanced at Lady Loretta.

 

“We also wished to honour Montisierre,” she said calmly, pitching her voice so the entire table could hear but without appearing to shout. Out of the corner of his eye, Jared noticed Princess Erica straightening up in surprise, and couldn’t help warming to her even more. She evidently hadn’t expected anything. “Though of course we would have preferred to be meeting under different circumstances, we are still thankful to be able to gather representatives from each of the three kingdoms in wondrous Val Deauvin.”

 

They’d decided on that word before knowing exactly what Val Deauvin was like, but Jared thought it had proved itself worthy. This speech had caused them more trouble than any of the others. Extending a hand of friendship to Montisierre without offending Val Deauvin in the process was a balancing act, to put it mildly, and now he was going to see if they would hold steady or plummet to their doom.   

 

Captain Harris passed Jared a second chest. His hands trembled ever so slightly as he took it, and he prayed no one had noticed. This needed to end soon.

 

He turned with a tentative smile to Princess Erica. Here, at least, there had been no question of who should receive the gift. Alyonis couldn’t afford to look like they were backing an alpha in a country where the eldest beta inherited.

 

She stepped forward, her eyes wide. Jared opened the chest in the same way. There was less alarm from the guards this time – Jared wondered if their trust had grown, or if they simply didn’t value the lives of the Montisierre royals so highly. They’d shown the guards who escorted them to dinner what was in the chests, but he couldn’t blame them for wondering if there might still be something lethal inside. It wouldn’t exactly be out of character for Alyonis.

 

“May Montisierre’s future as be bright and fertile as this small gift,” Jared said softly. He didn’t dare look at Prince Misha, but he injected as much meaning into his voice as he could for his next words. “Alyonis grieves with thee.”

 

It had been almost seventeen years since the massacre of the northern royal family, and Jeff had feared it would be insulting to say anything now, but Samantha had eventually sided with Jared. Even though the princess and perhaps her brother too likely remembered little of their parents, they still deserved to have their pain acknowledged. Alyonis’ own recent history wasn’t entirely dissimilar, after all, even if Jared suspected they knew far more about Montisierre than Montisierre (or Val Deauvin) knew about them.

 

Princess Erica gazed at him, her eyes seeming to roam over every inch of his face, before reaching inside, and carefully withdrawing another ornament. Her gasp sounded real, but she held it still instead of rotating it, studying it closely.

 

Jared tried to look calm, forcing himself to stand loosely, but inside he was fretting. This ornament was made from silver, and one bear cub had eyes of coal-black onyx, along with its mother, and the other of white crystal. Its monetary value would be far less than Val Deauvin’s gift, but the effort that had gone into carving it had been the same.

 

“You have our motto too,” Princess Erica said softly, gazing at where the words _Ever fierce, ever prepared, ever here_ were looped along the base. She swallowed. “And it’s in our language. The bear with the black eyes… she’s the heir?”

 

That bear cub was smaller than her sibling, and positioned nearer to her mother’s side, while the other lolloped further away. She had one paw raised in the air, as though carefully considering her next move.

 

“That’s right.”

 

Princess Erica looked up at him and beamed. “Thank you. This is stunning.” She turned to her brother, who was suddenly much closer than Jared was expecting, and moved it from side to side so he could admire it too. His half-smile and thoughtful perusal suggested he was pleased too.  

 

Jared glanced quickly at the southerners, and was relieved not to see any irritation in their eyes. Prince Jensen was holding the gift now, Princess Katherine at his side.

 

A sudden rush of slick made Jared bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep from gasping. They had to leave, now, before everyone else realised exactly what was going on.

 

“Thank you again for dinner, and for your hospitality,” Lady Loretta said. By the sudden way she clutched his arm, Jared thought she might understand why departing now was so urgent. “We look forward to the rest of our visit, but I’m afraid we must now beg your permission to retire.”

 

That was just one of the many advantages of having Lady Loretta with him – she could speak phrases like that and only appear polite. If Jared said them, Alyonis would look weak. Val Deauvin and Montisierre might think they’d surrendered before ever picking up a sword.

 

“Of course,” King Mitchell said. His eyes never moved from Jared’s face. “We look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.”

_My heats normally last five days,_ Jared thought. _Please, please, O Great Goddess, if you hear my prayer… let this one be shorter._


	4. Chapter 4

“Unbelievable,” Gilbert said darkly, pacing back and forth. “Even by Alyonis’ standards, this is low.”

 

“You make it sound like he did it on purpose,” Jensen said quietly, intending it to be for Misha’s ears only. He didn’t speak quietly enough, though.

 

“You think he didn’t?” Gilbert demanded, pausing to glare. “Don’t be so naïve, Jensen. Every omega knows roughly when they’ll go into heat.” His lips twisted in disgust. “Did he think himself so desirable that he would be able to _trick_ one of you into mating him?”

 

Jensen and Misha exchanged tiny glances. Neither of them said anything, but Jensen knew they were both thinking that Prince Jared might really be that desirable. Jensen had met many beautiful omegas, and even slept with a few, but none had ever caused him to make such a fool of himself.

 

“ _I_ wouldn’t have been tricked,” Alaina said coolly, studying her fingernails. She was seated to Jensen’s right but in her own chair, while Jensen, Misha and Erica shared the couch in Gilbert’s apartments, and Katherine perched on the windowsill, the morning light casting a soft glow on her hair.     

 

“It wasn’t you I was worried about,” Gilbert said, resuming his pacing. His voice softened ever so slightly when speaking to his eldest child. As he’d told Jensen more than once, Alaina had been an easy baby. Jensen had been a nightmare. There was a reason the age difference between Jensen and Katherine was much greater than between him and Alaina.

 

“We wouldn’t have been tricked either!” Jensen protested.

 

Gilbert only snorted. Jensen glanced at Erica, wondering if she’d take offence on Misha’s behalf, but she looked anxious rather than angry.

 

“How do you know he’s in heat?” she asked carefully.

 

“That servant I gave him, Jennifer… Genore… oh, whatever her name is, the one I was preparing to dismiss after not warning us what he really looked like last night finally proved her worth. She came to me this morning, saying that they were planning to pretend he was just sick, and sure enough, a note arrived not long afterwards.” Gilbert’s eyes flared. “He had the nerve to _apologise_! He’s just sorry his little scheme didn’t work.” He paused again, turning a fiery gaze on Jensen and Misha. _“And it’s not going to work.”_   

 

“Of course it isn’t,” Misha said, clearly striving for civility but not quite succeeding. “Just because we’re alphas doesn’t mean we’re ruled by our knots.”

 

It was a sign of how stressed Gilbert was that he didn’t even flinch at the crude language. “I’m not worried because you’re alphas, I’m worried because you two have already proven yourselves to be highly susceptible.” Some of the strain left his face as his expression turned thoughtful. “Though maybe it’s not entirely your fault. Perhaps Alyonis has discovered some way of making their omegas more…” Evidently, he couldn’t think of the right word to describe Prince Jared. Jensen couldn’t blame him. He’d had all night to adjust, and he still found himself getting slightly breathless when he remembered the prince’s beauty.

 

“If they have, I’m sure it’s only accidental, and most likely a result of in-breeding,” Alaina said firmly. “And Father and I didn’t make idiots of ourselves, so it’s clearly not that effective.”

 

Jensen didn’t bother to disguise his eyeroll. He’d heard almost identical words the night before, after Prince Jared and the rest of Alyonis’ representatives had left. His parents had, of course, asked the same questions as Katherine (and berated Jensen more into the bargain). Misha, though, had continued to insist that Prince Jared had just looked fleetingly familiar, while Jensen maintained – less convincingly – that he’d intended his words to be complimentary, and the stress of dealing with the pirates in the port had made him clumsy.

 

Misha had probably told Erica the truth, though. Jensen still felt uneasy, lying to his family, but he couldn’t see what ill effect keeping quiet about Prince Jared also being at the port (and depleting Misha’s brain cells as deftly as he’d later depleted Jensen’s) would have. If he told them the truth, however, he’d probably need to mention why Misha had met the prince and not him, and bringing up Matt’s name would definitely cause problems.

 

Jensen suddenly wondered if Alyonis’ departure last night had been so hasty because the prince knew then that he was going into heat. It didn’t seem much of a trick if Prince Jared fled before seeing if it would work.

 

“Why couldn’t Alyonis just have sent an alpha like they promised?” Gilbert demanded of no one. “Omegas are nothing but trouble, and now we’ve got to harbour this… this _viper_ in our midst for the next three months.”

 

Alaina stood up. “He won’t go into heat again,” she said gently. “Their heats are biannually, you know that. It’s unfortunate they didn’t send his brother, but we must deal with what we’ve got. He’ll be indisposed for the rest of the week, I would imagine, and then we can return to our original schedule.” Her voice hardened. “We still have a chance to impress Alyonis, and learn what we can in return. We mustn’t squander it.” 

 

Gilbert sighed. “You’re right, of course. This changes nothing.” He turned to face Jensen and Misha. “Assuming that –”

 

“I’ll make sure Misha stays out of trouble,” Erica said. She looked particularly sincere in that moment, big blue eyes innocently held wide and legs daintily crossed, but Jensen suspected she’d complain to Misha about Gilbert’s paranoia as soon as they were alone. She might even complain to Jensen too. More and more frequently, he seemed to find there was a place left for him in conversations between the northerners. He longed to ask if Katherine was experiencing that too, just on separate occasions to himself, but he hadn’t figured out the words yet… and a part of him didn’t want to know. For as long as he could remember, the assumption had always been that Misha and Katherine would one day mate. If Jensen and Erica did too, it would be in addition to the marriage between their siblings, further strengthening the ties between their kingdoms. The possibility that he would be the one to forge the alliance with the north… it simultaneously thrilled and sickened him.

 

“And I’ll do the same with Jensen,” Alaina was saying. Jensen would normally have protested bitterly at that, but today he kept quiet. “So, you see, there’s nothing to worry about. His heat will pass and Alyonis will know not to try such schemes in the future.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” Gilbert said quietly. He was still young, with another year or so left of childbearing (though Jensen rather hoped his parents were done with that), but he suddenly looked much older, almost Mitchell’s age. “We’ve lived together in peace for so long… I can’t bear Alyonis to wreck it when we’re so close…”

 

Erica stood up too, reaching out for Misha as she did so. “You need to have more faith in us,” she said, her voice as soft as southern sand but her eyes as cold as northern snow. “Alyonis can’t wreck anything if we stand together, and Montisierre is willing.”

 

“Val Deauvin is willing too,” Alaina said smoothly, “so we need fear nothing. May I be excused? If I’m not taking Prince Jared to Parliament today, I’d like to spend some more time overseeing the new recruits.”

 

Gilbert nodded. Val Deauvin’s large, well-trained army was a source of pride to every southerner. Misha and Erica had never been allowed to witness training exercises, but they were informed whenever new volunteers joined, though exact numbers were never quoted. They’d been with Jensen’s family for almost seventeen years now, but it would take more than that to wipe clean centuries of bloodshed and mistrust.

 

“May I be excused too?” Katherine added quickly.

 

“You can all go,” Gilbert said. “I’ve done what I can to warn you.”

 

“And we’ll heed that warning,” Erica said kindly, standing on tiptoe to brush a kiss against Gilbert’s cheek, which he allowed. Seventeen years was still a long time, after all.

 

To Jensen’s surprise, Alaina was waiting in the corridor. “Do you have a minute, brother?”

 

“Of course,” Jensen said warily. He glanced over his shoulder at Misha and Erica, who looked equally concerned.

 

Erica smiled, but Jensen could tell it was forced. “Perhaps we could meet for lunch in the orchard? Now that our schedules are all cleared…”

 

“I’d like that,” Jensen said. He and Misha nodded to one another, Misha silently wishing him good luck and Jensen accepting without words, and Jensen turned and left in the opposite direction with Alaina.

 

His elder sister waited until they’d walked down several corridors and up a flight of stairs, long passing out of earshot of the northerners, before speaking. “Nowadays you seem to spend more time with Misha and Erica than anyone else.”

 

Jensen glanced at her, but, as always, Alaina’s expression gave nothing away. “Well, time’s running out,” he said lightly, though his heart clenched. “Don’t worry – the pleasure of my company will soon be exclusively yours.”

 

Alaina’s lips twitched. “Thank you for that reassurance.” Another lengthy silence passed, but Jensen had long learned that it was useless to try to hurry Alaina, even if impatience sometimes got the better of him. She’d speak when she was ready. Sure enough, Alaina finally stopped in front of one of the small, private chapels near the roof of the palace, and ushered him inside. As a child, this had been one of Jensen’s favourite places when playing hide-and-seek with Misha. No matter how often Jensen chose it, Misha never seemed capable of finding him quickly. He maintained that the palace had too many chapels, and not enough creativity had gone into designing them. Jensen maintained that Erica just had all the brains in the family.

 

Alaina closed the door firmly behind them, and turned to face him. There were no windows in this room, and without candlelight, Jensen could only just make out the outlines of Alaina’s face.

 

“I think Erica may intend to ask for your hand in marriage.”

 

Jensen stifled his laugh. Even in his kingdom, where alphas and betas were considered equally capable of ruling, it was still odd to hear that phrase associated with an alpha. Alaina wasn’t wrong to use it, though – if he and Erica did mate, he would travel to her home, and not the other way around.

 

“I’ve thought that too,” he said carefully.  

 

“Are you willing?”

 

“Does it matter?”    

 

He thought Alaina might have looked upset, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. “Of course it matters, Jensen. We all want to create an alliance, but not at the cost of your happiness.”

 

Jensen snorted. He couldn’t help it. If all it took was his unhappiness to bind Montisierre to them, he was certain his parents would take that deal and consider it a bargain.

 

Alaina sighed. “Would you prefer that Katherine went instead? Misha still seems fond of her, and her… indiscretions aren’t as well-known.”

 

Face burning, Jensen was suddenly glad that she’d dragged him here. In a better light, Alaina would have seen the fury he couldn’t hide at hearing Matt described in such a way.

 

“I want whatever’s best for Val Deauvin,” he said woodenly.

 

“I wish you wouldn’t be like this. I’m trying to help you. If you truly desire to remain here, I’ll do my best to convince Erica to accept Katherine for Misha instead. I don’t think that will be too difficult. If you aren’t opposed to leaving, though…”

 

“You know what I want, Alaina,” he said quietly. “You know as well as I do that it’s impossible.”

 

“I know.” For a moment, she almost seemed on the verge of apologising. It wouldn’t have changed anything, but Jensen might have felt better for hearing it. He wasn’t surprised when it didn’t happen. “But I also know that our beta father still thinks a monastery is the best place for you.” Jensen couldn’t prevent his flinch. “I happen to disagree, but I could still change my mind. Would you be willing to go to Montisierre or not?”

 

Jensen thought of living in a country where seasons were differentiated on the amount of snowfall, and whose summers were frequently colder than Val Deauvin’s winters. He thought of having to share Erica with her other spouses. He thought of the possibility that he would never have children of his own, because of Montisierre’s fear that Val Deauvin might try to use them to force an amalgamation. He thought of never seeing Matt again.

 

Then he thought of never having to leave Misha’s side. He thought of having the chance to finally leave his homeland and experience another kingdom, as Erica, Misha, and now Prince Jared had done. He thought of being free from Gilbert’s criticism. He thought of being a southerner surrounded by northerners, a rarity, instead of younger brother to the heir and a second alpha when they already had the perfect one.

 

“I’d be willing.”

 

Alaina breathed out. “Thank you,” she said, to his surprise. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right choice.” 

 

She left after that, intending to visit the recruits as she’d told Gilbert. Jensen sometimes wondered if Alaina knew how to lie. She’d have been hopeless if she’d visited a lover in secret as he had.

 

Then again, Alaina wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone unsuitable in the first place.

 

Making his way slowly back to his room, Jensen suddenly thought of how he would feel if he’d ventured to Alyonis and been thrown into rut. While it was easy to side with his beta father and believe that he would never have been so careless with his cycle, alphas only had to deal with rut once a year, and even then it could be unpredictable. For omegas, with their more frequent cycles, it was likely even harder to judge. Jensen would feel alone and defeated, and he felt a sudden wave of compassion for Prince Jared. If only there was something he could do…

 

Inspiration struck. He headed towards the kitchen instead. The south was renowned for their good food, and especially for their chocolate – a sample of their most delicious flavours might make Prince Jared feel better. Most people liked chocolate, didn’t they? Jensen didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he rarely refused the offer of southern chocolate (the northern kind was a different matter). 

 

Halfway there, though, and Jensen slowed, hesitant. What if receiving a gift made Prince Jared feel like he had to give something in return? Something like his body, for instance? Alyonis were said to only recognise marriages between virgins, so it seemed unlikely Prince Jared would forfeit his right to a lawful mate for a few southern chocolates, but he might think that was what Jensen wanted and be offended…

 

Jensen wouldn’t lie. If Prince Jared appeared right now, smiling beguilingly, still clad in the red clothes that must mean something different in Alyonis but in Montisierre and Val Deauvin signalled sexual availability, Jensen would find it difficult to refuse. Even the thought of Matt’s rage didn’t dampen his libido as much as it should. He and Matt couldn’t be together, and a day (or more) with Prince Jared’s long limbs wrapped around him seemed worth the repercussions.

 

It was never, ever going to happen, of course. All the same, Jensen wanted any invitation to Alyonis’ prince’s bed to be made freely. He’d arrange for the chocolates to be delivered in a few days’ time, where it would seem less likely that he desired to spend the prince’s heat with him.

 

Jensen had never been with an omega in heat… and it seemed increasingly likely he never would. Betas were the lucky ones, having neither a rut nor a heat to deal with. Most southerners, and probably northerners too, agreed this made them the superior partner for an alpha. Jensen, though, couldn’t help wistfully thinking that there was more of an equality to an alpha-and-omega pairing, in spite of the prejudice that omegas continued to face. An omega understood what it was like to be enslaved by biology. A beta never could.

 

Erica understood almost everything else about him, though, Jensen reminded himself. He could do a lot, lot worse.

 

*

 

Jared opened his eyes, gazing up at the ceiling. At first, he was content to lay quietly where he was. He felt warm and well-rested, and surprisingly safe, his naked body wrapped tightly in satin sheets…

 

Then it all came flooding back to him, and he struggled to sit up with a groan. He’d spent his life trying to keep up with Milo, showing without words that omegas were just as good as alphas, and what happened as soon as he got a chance to prove it? He went into heat. Twice.

_It’s not fair,_ he thought. It seemed to be his constant mantra these days.

_Are you feeling better now? You seem more… coherent._

 

Jared looked up, smiling, as Myrtle swooped to his side, pushing out her head to be petted.

 

“How many days has it been?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

_Since you’ve been confined to this room? This is the fourth._

 

Hmm. Normally, his heat would last five days, but there was nothing normal about this cycle. Jared was just grateful that it was over. The Goddess had heeded his desperate prayer, and he sent a quick thank you, intending to send a longer one later. He felt a fresh wave of hatred for the alphas and betas that insisted on calling this a holy experience. If the Goddess wanted to reach out to him, Jared would accept literally any other method. The Dark Order believed that heats were a sign of Her favour, but sometimes Jared thought Montisierre and Val Deauvin might be right. Maybe omegas were cursed.

 

Jared swung his legs out of bed, grateful to be able to move without cramping. He was one of the lucky ones, he knew, with the pain being limited to the beginning and end of his cycle, and the middle a haze of sexual arousal. Some omegas were said to be in pain the whole time, with only the occasional orgasm to ease them through. Jared had lost count of how many times he’d brought himself off, fingers plunging into his sopping hole, unable to form a knot, which was what his body really wanted, but at least able to provide temporary satisfaction. More than once, he’d thought wistfully of the toy Amy had given him when he was fourteen. He hadn’t hesitated to leave it behind, and now he regretted his pride. His hands would be sore for days from the strain…   

 

He blushed, though there was no one to witness his humiliation. With the exception of Myrtle, who’d slept for most of the last few days in deference to his need for privacy (Jared wished he had the ability to just put himself to sleep for days on end), he’d been the only one in this room since the beginning of his heat. Even Lady Loretta and Genevieve had stayed away, though an omega in heat was supposedly as repulsive to a beta as the omega was alluring to an alpha. Food and drink had been left outside his door, and he knew how to run a bath, though he’d only bothered once. For his own sake rather than anyone else’s, Jared had locked both adjoining doors, the one on his left leading to Lady Loretta’s room and the one on the right leading to his guards’.

 

Jared decided he wanted a bath now. He could wash his hair himself – he wasn’t completely helpless. Now that his heat was over, he could admit it was rather nice to be alone, to be just Jared. He could let his face form whatever expression he wished, without worrying about what others thought, and decide what he wanted to do next instead of following a schedule. 

Still… he would have happily traded this moment of peace for not going into heat at all. Would his hosts believe he’d just been ill? Probably not. If he’d been sick, why would he have quarantined himself instead of seeking medical advice, or at least the comfort of his guards and advisor? Neither Val Deauvin nor Montisierre had royal omegas of their own, but Jared still thought they’d be able to add two and two together.

_Move on_ , he told himself. _You can’t change the past._ Assuming he wasn’t going to be sent home in disgrace, he still had a few months to try to forge a friendship. The novelty of being from Alyonis might still be enough to save him in the eyes of the northerners and southerners from the misfortune of being an omega.

_I’m not eavesdropping, but I know you’re worrying._

 

Jared smiled in spite of himself. “You wouldn’t need to eavesdrop to know that. It’s all I ever do these days. At least I’m good at it.”

_At worrying?_ Myrtle stretched out on his recently vacated pillow. The bed had been made up with close to a dozen, but she seemed to prefer the same one as him. _I can think of more useful talents._

 

“So can I, unfortunately. Right now, a knowledge of plumbing seems the obvious one.” Jared reached for the hot water tap, still half-amazed when heated water came streaming out.

_Some dragons can heal other dragons with their fire. I would have liked to be able to do that._

 

“Really?” Jared stared at her. “ _Any_ wound, or…?”

_Any wound,_ Myrtle confirmed. _For dragons, though, you’re born with talents like that. You can’t master them, even if you spent a lifetime – a dragon’s lifetime, not a human’s – trying._

 

Jared had known all along that dragons lived much longer than humans, but it suddenly occurred to him that the small dragon before him would easily outlive him, and his children, and his children’s children… If she was willing, she’d be with him all his life, but he’d only be a blip in hers.

 

He busied himself with checking the temperature of the water, making a show of turning on the cold tap and lessening the flow of the hot tap. 

_Loving a human is a gift, Jared, but it comes with a cost,_ Myrtle said hesitantly. _All love does. Watching you pine for your brother could make a dragon think that particular exchange rate was too high, but I know better. If I offered to take away your memories of him, to spare you from the pain that threatens to drown you… I know what your answer would be._

 

A tear slipped down Jared’s cheek. “I do too.” He closed his eyes, tasting salt on his lips, and then splashed water over his face. “Could you really do that?”

_Ask me another time. I won’t be so interesting to you if you know all my secrets._

 

“You’ll always be interesting to me.” Jared sank into the water with a grateful sigh. The tub was long enough that he could stretch out, and he wriggled his toes happily. “Have you left this room since we got here?”

_Of course not. Someone had to watch over you._

 

Jared thought about protesting that he could watch over himself, but in the end he didn’t. He’d heard similar sentiments from all the alphas in his life, on more than one occasion, but it was different coming from Myrtle.

 

Besides… Jared might need all the protection he could get. “Do you want to meet our hosts soon, or would you prefer to wait a bit longer?”

_I’m willing to meet them soon. Now that they have their carvings, they’re less likely to think that_ I’m _the present._

 

Jared snorted in agreement.

_And look on the bright side… at least now they know you’re fertile?_

 

Indignant, Jared flicked water at her, but he couldn’t deny that he felt better… and not just because his heat was over.

 

A knock sounded on the door when Jared was drying his hair with a towel. He froze in place, wondering if he’d need to answer, when he heard the sound of a tray being placed on the floor. On cue, his stomach grumbled. After waiting a few minutes, reluctant to put an end to the respite from being social, Jared unlocked the door, and brought the tray inside. Soup, bread, fruit, cheese… it looked delicious, as it always did, though going into heat tended to suppress his appetite. Having barely eaten over the last few days, he was suddenly aware of how ravenous he was.

 

The long purple box to one side of the tray was new, though.

 

Myrtle landed on his shoulder, and inhaled deeply. _No poison._  

 

“Should I open that box to make sure?”

_Feel free, but I’d be able to smell it even through the covering. It’s safe to eat._

 

She’d checked every time he received food, but it was still a relief to hear, though Jared didn’t really think the southerners would try to kill him that way. It seemed too… impersonal. They seemed the sort to want more of a spectacle.

 

Jared turned the box from side to side, before finally figuring out how to open it. He gasped. Inside was a variety of coloured circles, ranging from creamy-white to fluorescent-yellow to neon-green to deepest-purple. He reached for the red one, lifting it up and examining it from all angles.

_I’m no expert, but I think it might be food,_ Myrtle said.

_“Food?”_ Jared had never seen such an array of colours. He took a small nibble of the red one he clutched, preparing to fling it down in disgust. Then he took a larger bite… and moaned in delight.

 

It was chocolate. Somehow, the southerners were able to make chocolate with coats from every colour of the rainbow, and a few more besides. Even though he’d messed up and gone into heat (twice), they’d still seen fit to share this knowledge with him.

 

Jared examined the box carefully, but couldn’t find any indication of who it was from. Should he assume it was a gift from all the southern royals? He couldn’t help wondering whose idea it had been. With no omega sibling or parent, someone had still thought to give him this wonderful gift a few days after his heat begun.

 

Could it be from the northerners instead? A note would have been useful. Jared wanted to say thank you. He reached for a pale orange chocolate now, offering half to Myrtle, who declined with a shudder but happily accepted some of his fruit. The next chocolates he deliberated between were blue and green, respectively, and reminded him of –

 

He wasn’t going to think about _that alpha_. He wasn’t going to think about _that alpha_ ’s friend either, or how handsome they both were, or how his thoughts had turned inappropriately to them both more than once in the last few days… or how he might have misjudged them. A substance that put an omega into a temporary heat, lasting no more than a day, made sense to Jared. One that simulated his normal heat cycle seemed far more unlikely. Could it just have been a response to how stressed he’d felt recently? Jared had never heard of that, but information about omegas was hard to find. The library in his palace was huge, but most of what Jared knew about his kind had come from Amy, who’d learned it from her omega father, who’d learned it from his omega mother…  Generation after generation, bordered by two kingdoms that wanted omegas’ secrets but not the omegas themselves…

 

Jared wasn’t going to think about any of that. He was going to have another chocolate, a purple one, finish his lunch, and then seek out his advisor and his guards. Being Just Jared had been a welcome break, but Prince Jared had returned.

 

*

 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now, Jared,” Lady Loretta said warmly. “Perhaps now we can discuss what Prince Misha said when you removed your veil?”

 

Jared winced. Going into heat had almost made him forget about that. “I’m sorry,” he said, figuring that was a good place to start. “When we stopped at that harbour, I left the ship without telling anyone. It was exceptionally foolish of me, but I… I just wanted to have a closer look. I’d heard so much about Val Deauvin, and it was so hard to wrap my head around the fact that I was finally getting to see it, especially when it should have been… I swam to shore and had a quick look around, and I met the prince there, though he didn’t know who I was. He asked if I was from the border, and I came to my senses and returned to the ship. I’m sorry. It was a stupid, impulsive action, and I shouldn’t have taken it.”

 

There, he thought, pleased with himself. That sounded logical enough, though still idiotic, and there was no mention of –

 

“And where does Bledel fit into this?” Captain Harris asked mildly.

 

Jared looked between her and Lady Loretta, puzzled, and then the truth dawned. “You’ve already asked her!”

 

“Of course,” Lady Loretta said. “Though I have to say, her story doesn’t _quite_ match yours.”

 

Jared sighed. He could still hear Lieutenant Bledel’s words playing over and over in his mind.

_“Milo isn’t going to return. You made sure of that.”_

 

He loathed having to defend her, but it wasn’t fair to let her take the blame for this. “All right. Lieutenant Bledel saw me leave the ship, and she came after me, and brought me back. It wasn’t her fault. I made my decision, and I sincerely regret doing it,” those words were a little harder to get out, with the memory of Prince Misha’s eyes suddenly blazing in his mind, “but it wasn’t her fault – she couldn’t have stopped me.”

 

“That’s precisely the problem,” Captain Harris said, eyes heated. “She _should_ have stopped you. Instead, you met Montisierre’s prince, _unveiled_ , and he _remembered_ you. Genevieve said he told the kings that he’d made a mistake, but that could have been disastrous for us!”

 

It was hardly the most crucial part of the information she’d just divulged, but Jared couldn’t help saying, “I didn’t realise you and Genevieve had gotten so close.”

 

Captain Harris didn’t deign to give that a response. Jared couldn’t blame her.

 

“The point is,” Lady Loretta said, “that although we don’t blame you for leaving the ship –”

 

“You should. It was irresponsible and completely unbecoming of my station.”

 

 “ – we wish you hadn’t done it, and given that you’ve never taken such an impulsive action with either of us, we can’t help but wonder if something occurred between you and Lieutenant Bledel.”

 

Jared squirmed. “Nothing ‘occurred.’ I was just an idiot. It all suddenly felt too much for me, and I just wanted to escape for a few minutes.”

 

He trusted them both enough to think that they would probably have been sympathetic if he told them what Lieutenant Bledel really said, possibly even volunteering to remove her from his guard entirely, but they were few in number as it was. They needed all the support they could get.

 

And maybe Jared was afraid that he might see the truth of what Lieutenant Bledel said reflected in their eyes. Milo was, after all, his twin. If he’d left voluntarily, he’d left in spite of Jared. Maybe even… maybe even _because_ of Jared. 

 

“I can understand that,” Captain Harris said after a lengthy pause, her voice gentle. “Few would envy the weight on your shoulders. If that’s _all_ that happened with Lieutenant Bledel…?”

 

Jared nodded.

 

“Very well. That’s what she said too.”

 

Jared was careful not to show any signs of relief.

 

“All the same, I’m putting her on night duty for the rest of the week, and I’ll accompany you during the daytime.”

 

Jared couldn’t help brightening. “So Val Deauvin isn’t sending me home?”

 

Lady Loretta blinked. “Of course not. On the contrary – the schedule they gave us seems to take you to every building in the capital, and a few more besides.” She hesitated. “I think it may be better if I don’t accompany you, at least for the first week. We need the southerners to see _you_ as representative of Alyonis, and I fear my presence may… complicate that.”

 

Jared frowned. “You travelled as far as I did. You should get to see as much as I do.”

 

Lady Loretta laughed. “I think not having to endure southern arrogance may be a better deal than you think it is. Besides… I don’t think your dragon should be left alone, and I think the southerners may object to her coming with you. Few of them have even seen dragons, as far as I can tell, and brandishing Alyonis’ superiority in that regard… they may resent rather than admire us.”

 

Jared nodded reluctantly, though he was still mostly consumed with relief that he could stay. After Lady Loretta and Captain Harris left, he was going to spend a long time on his knees before the altar he’d set up. The Goddess deserved his thanks.

 

He also needed to make another offering in regards to Milo soon.

 

*

 

The following week passed quickly. The southerners had indeed scheduled so many activities that Jared almost begun to feel grateful for his heat. At least it had given him a few days to rest. Val Deauvin’s Parliament had been first on the list, and so far it remained the most impressive. The building itself had been a sight to behold, towering above everything around it and with a vast array of statues all around the upper edges (which Princess Alaina told him represented famous figures in southern history), but Jared was more interested with what went on inside. His hosts had been surprisingly willing to show him around, even allowing him to glimpse a few of the senior politicians in the midst of a heated debate. They’d been overwhelmingly alpha, but Jared had seen a few betas… though no omegas, of course. Still, it was a remarkable mode of government. Val Deauvin, though a unified kingdom, was further divided into separate regions, and each elected their own representatives. One chamber in Parliament had three from every region, regardless of size, while another chamber allowed larger regions to send more representatives. Jared didn’t entirely understand which ruled supreme, despite Princess Alaina’s best efforts, but it was fascinating to see.  

 

Alyonis had nothing like this. Though his mother frequently travelled around the kingdom, and was always willing to listen to her people’s problems, whether the speaker was the grandest noble or the youngest peasant, there was no meeting place where representatives from each region gathered under one ceiling. Alyonis didn’t even have such strictly defined regions – there were many small villages that lay between larger cities. If Alyonis adopted Val Deauvin’s system, would those villages send their own representatives, or would whoever the nearest city elected speak for them too? At present, anyone was allowed to travel to the palace to seek Alpha-Queen Samantha’s help, though distance, wealth and physical fitness were factors that made that more difficult for certain members of the kingdom. Could Val Deauvin’s people do that too, or did they have to go first to their politicians? The closest equivalent in Alyonis were all chosen by his mother, rather than their neighbours, though anyone could petition to have a cruel or unjust overseer removed. The Queen’s Justice had garrisons all across the kingdom, which helped curtail abuses of power.

 

There had long been rumours that Val Deauvin’s royalty were mere figureheads, puppets in the hands of people with no divine right to rule, but Jared had always dismissed those. How could the richest kingdom function like that? What did the royals do if the real rulers were corrupt? Why did Val Deauvin even have a royal family if they served no purpose? He couldn’t exactly say that he’d answered those questions, but he was deeply grateful to have had the chance to visit Parliament all the same. If there was time at the end of his stay in Val Deauvin, he might ask if he could return.

 

Now, though, Princess Katherine was accompanying him to a pregnancy clinic in the centre of the city. Jared had been especially eager for this. Alyonis prided themselves on their medical abilities, with hopefuls having to endure a gruelling ten-year apprenticeship before being able to call themselves ‘Healer.’ Did Val Deauvin employ a similar process?

 

If they did, he wasn’t going to find out about it today. Princess Katherine had been waiting by horse-drawn coaches outside the palace, and had smiled sweetly as he approached.

 

“I’m _so_ glad you’re feeling better.”

 

“Thank you,” Jared had replied, willing down his blush. Genevieve had told him as soon as they’d reunited that she’d informed the southerners of his heat, and had even apologised for it. Jared didn’t bear any malice, though. He hadn’t expected her to lie to her employers, and he was sure they would have figured it out on their own anyway. What did surprise him was the fact that she’d confessed to doing so. She could have easily kept quiet, and he would have been none the wiser.

 

Jared may have been allowed to remain in Val Deauvin, but Prince Misha, Prince Jensen, and Princess Erica had been absent from every meal he’d attended since his heat ended. He didn’t understand that one at all. The southerners couldn’t be unwilling to allow him near their alphas, because he’d spent time with Princess Alaina. It also wasn’t a united snub from the betas, because King-Consort Gilbert and Princess Katherine had dined with him, and if it was a northern snub, why had Prince Jensen joined too? Could he perhaps be betrothed to Princess Erica? What about the omega Jared had seen him with?

 

After a few days of this, Jared had given up hoping they would reappear and had introduced Myrtle to the rest of the southern royal family. Even with King Mitchell’s declaration that she was “rather small” (Myrtle had growled from her position around Jared’s neck, _Unlike his intelligence, I’m still going to grow_ ), Jared could tell Alyonis had grown in their estimation for possessing such a creature, and Myrtle had been obliging enough to let Princess Alaina give her a quick stroke.  

 

He couldn’t say that _he’d_ grown in their estimation, however. The southern coaches could easily have fitted Jared, Princess Katherine, and their guards, but two coaches had been prepared, even though Princess Alaina had been willing to travel with him. It at least gave Jared a chance to talk to Captain Harris in his own language without feeling rude, but he felt the sting of the slight all the same. 

 

Once at the clinic, though, Princess Katherine seemed more than willing to walk by his side for the tour. Jared was just beginning to wonder if he’d misjudged her when she turned to him, eyes glinting.

 

“You should tell Prince Jared what most clients come here for,” she said, cutting off the speaker (the southerners seemed to use ‘Doctor’ rather than ‘Healer’ as a title) mid-flow.

 

The doctor didn’t seem offended. Even if the southern royal family had little real power, they still seemed to command respect. “We’re renowned for our expertise in terminating pregnancies, Your Grace. Our methods have proven far safer to the parent than any in history. Clients sometimes change their mind, and carry the foetus to full-term, which we’re also equipped to aid, but our primary purpose is abortion. Our fees vary depending on the client’s financial background.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Katherine said innocently to Jared. “Was this listed on your itinerary as a _pregnancy_ clinic? Perhaps you hoped you’d get to meet babies. I hear omegas are fond of those.”

 

The spiteful retort, _Fonder than betas are, which is why alphas like us more,_ leapt to Jared’s tongue, but he managed to swallow it down. Tempting as it was to sink to her level, he was still a guest in her country. Besides, the jibe only really applied to his own kingdom. Even with the chances of multiples being much higher in an omega pregnancy, Montisierre and Val Deauvin still preferred betas.  

 

“I’m fond of medical advancement too,” he said instead, forcing a smile, and glanced quickly at the doctor. “Tell me more?”

 

Thankfully, she was happy to oblige, and led them through the rest of the building. Although Jared’s mother had legalized abortion at the start of her reign, allowing the Healers who’d always been able to help a desperate beta or omega to practice more openly, it was impossible to imagine a clinic like this existing so blatantly in Alyonis. Attitudes amongst the general population changed slower than laws did, after all. Had Samantha not just overthrown a tyrant, Jared sometimes wondered if she would have been overthrown herself. It helped that she had three children, especially when alpha-and-omega twins were so rare, and considered a sign of the Goddess’ favour. It also helped that there had been no one to replace her with. 

 

Perhaps one day a clinic like this might exist in Alyonis, though? Jared had to remember as much as he could. In the future, this might serve as a blueprint for them. He was sure that Milo would agree to – 

 

Jared closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the only thought on his mind was to find out more about the clinic. Everything else, every _one_ else, needed to wait.  

 

“What about omegas?” he asked, after they’d viewed the ward where clients the doctors wished to observe overnight stayed. He’d noted approvingly that a curtain could be drawn around each bed, giving a sense of privacy. “Do they stay here too, or do they have their own ward?” Betas and omegas shared facilities in Alyonis, but Val Deauvin seemed like it might count his kind as a separate gender instead of classing them as simply ‘non-alpha.’

 

The doctor blinked. “We’ve never had an omega as a client, Your Grace.”

 

“Oh.” Even though he suspected it was rude, he couldn’t help asking, as mildly as he could, “Is that their choice or yours?”

 

“The issue’s never arose. As Her Highness said,” the doctor nodded to Prince Katherine, “omegas are fond of babies. To be honest, I don’t even know if our methods would work on them. The staggering fertility of most omegas –”

 

“Thank you,” Jared said, interrupting her, even though he’d previously thought ill of Princess Katherine for doing just that. He kept his mouth closed for the rest of the tour, and was grateful to finally return to the coach. Thanking Princess Katherine for the trip felt like swallowing seawater, but he managed to do it. Settling gratefully inside, Jared was surprised to notice that Captain Harris’s lips were pressed together in a thin line.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as soon as the door had closed and the horses set off. Surely, she couldn’t be upset that the clinic existed? Captain Harris had never struck him as a traditionalist… and he doubted Samantha would have given her the command if she suspected Captain Harris felt like that. He wondered if Val Deauvin would think that unfair. Should the best candidate for a job be chosen regardless of the monarch’s feelings on them?

 

“Nothing,” Captain Harris said tersely.

 

Jared leaned forward, lowering his voice, though he doubted the driver would hear them unless they shouted. “Tell me,” he coaxed, widening his eyes hopefully.

 

Captain Harris glanced at him and sighed. “I just didn’t appreciate the princess’ attitude, that’s all.”

 

“Well, we must seem very conservative to her,” Jared said awkwardly, blushing. It wasn’t as though she was mischaracterizing them, after all. Alyonis might be more progressive when it came to abortion than Val Deauvin expected, but homosexuality was still illegal, even if no one had been imprisoned since Samantha came to power, and they were no closer to forming a Parliament than they were to learning how to fly.

 

“It’s not that.” Captain Harris’s voice was barely above a whisper. “She took you there with the intention of making you uncomfortable, and then she got annoyed that you weren’t, despite her best efforts. I don’t like that.”

 

“But…” Jared’s heart sank. “Oh. I thought… I thought she was trying to… _educate_ me, I suppose. To show what it could be like for the betas – and omegas – in Alyonis, if we were willing to learn from Val Deauvin.”

 

Captain Harris snorted. “All she’s interested in teaching you is how to feel inferior. Don’t let her.” The protectiveness in her eyes as she glanced at him again startled Jared. “You’re worth ten of her.”

 

Jared laughed uncomfortably, trying to defuse the tension. “Well, I’m a lot taller than her.”

 

Captain Harris gazed at him blankly for a moment, and then laughed too. “That isn’t what I meant.”

 

Jared leaned back in his seat. “I’m glad you’re here, Captain Harris, and not just because you’re half-southern.”

 

The alpha smiled, but her eyes were serious. “I’m glad I’m here too… and not just because I get to visit the south.”

 

“Was your alpha mother pleased to hear you were going?” Jared asked.

 

Captain Harris took so long to answer that he’d begun to regret asking. “Yes, but not to the extent you’re picturing, I think.” She smiled. “My sire loves my omega mother more than she ever loved Val Deauvin. She was pleased Alpha-Queen Samantha trusted me enough to send me, but I think she would have been equally proud had we travelled to Montisierre instead. I know everyone thinks of me as half-southern, and I am, but my alpha mother considers herself to be Alyonis’ now. My loyalty isn’t divided.”

 

“I didn’t mean to imply – ” Jared started, horrified.

 

Captain Harris waved away his words. “I know. I didn’t take it that way. I just meant… well, I imagine you know how I feel more than most.”

 

Jared blinked. “Me?”

 

Captain Harris swallowed. He hadn’t imagined the confident alpha could ever look so uncomfortable. “Uh, forgive me, Your Highness, I shouldn’t have mentioned –”

 

Hearing her call him by his title again, when it had felt for a moment like they were speaking as equals, hurt Jared more than he expected. “If you’re referring to my father’s house,” he said, in a colder voice than he meant, “I don’t see the relevance. Your alpha mother made a choice, as did you. Alyonis thanks you for it. My choice was made for me. House Morgan is nothing but a graveyard now. I couldn’t return to it even if I wanted to.”

 

“House Morgan lives on in you and your brothers,” Captain Harris said, so quietly he could pretend not to hear her if he wanted. “Few may acknowledge it, but you’re as much their heirs as you are Alpha-Queen Samantha’s.”

 

Jared leaned back, suddenly exhausted. “Lucky me. Betrayal, witchcraft, and murder saturate both of my family trees. All that lives on in me is misfortune and a strong likelihood of dying before my time.” He regretted speaking so candidly even before the words were fully formed. Never fully trusting anyone that wasn’t family might as well have been the motto for Jared’s line… at least on his mother’s side.

 

Then again, look where that had gotten them.

 

“I think differently,” Captain Harris said levelly, after she’d taken a moment to absorb his words. “I think what you’ve inherited is perseverance, a sense of justice, and an ability to love unconditionally, regardless of the consequences. _Whoever_ you marry will be very lucky, Jared.”

 

Jared stared at her, and not just because she’d used his name for the very first time. He couldn’t make sense of the emphasis she’d put on the word ‘whoever.’ Was that her way of expressing approval of Justin… or the opposite?

 

The rest of the journey passed in silence. When they returned to the palace, Jared was surprised to find a note waiting in his room, inviting him to afternoon tea that day with Princess Erica.

 

“It’s last minute,” Lady Loretta commented. She’d stood back when Jared unfolded the paper, but Jared gestured for her to read it by his side. As much as he appreciated how respectfully she treated him, he knew her wisdom was far greater than his, and he valued her counsel. “However, it’s still an overture of friendship from Montisierre. I would recommend you accept.”

 

Jared read the note over again, and nodded. If Princess Erica had penned this, she had nice handwriting. “Any advice for when I’m there?”

 

Lady Loretta paused. Jared was grateful that she took the time to think over her response, instead of answering instantly. It would be easy for her to make him feel small. It would be easy for her to make clear that Milo would have been much better at this.

 

“I’m still not sure what to make of her,” Lady Loretta said finally. “As far as I know, there’s never, ever been an heir that’s spent more time in another kingdom than their own. When she ascends the throne, she won’t have the bone-deep knowledge of her home and her land that Princess Alaina will.”

_Or that Milo would have,_ Jared thought, before he could stop himself.

 

“Of course Montisierre and Val Deauvin want an alliance. I thought marrying the northern prince and the southern beta princess would be everyone’s first choice, but now I’m not so sure. Tread lightly, Jared.” The small smile Lady Loretta gave him told him that her words weren’t intended to be scolding. “If she marries Prince Jensen, and Princess Alaina has no children, or dies young… this could be the future queen of not just Montisierre, but Val Deauvin too.”

_And the cause of our ruin,_ Jared thought. He started when Myrtle landed on his shoulder, coiling herself around his neck and nuzzling into his cheek.

_Have faith, remember?_

 

Jared stroked her head and smiled. “I’d like to take Myrtle with me. Do you think that would be a mistake?”

 

Lady Loretta shook her head. “The northern princess hasn’t met her yet. I think it would be good to remind Montisierre that there are two kingdoms, and two possible alliances.”

 

Jared’s eyes widened. Even though they were speaking their own language, the words still felt dangerous to say in Val Deauvin. Lady Loretta was right, though. This was what Samantha had entrusted him to do.

 

“And you’ll have me by your side,” Captain Harris said, grinning, “though I appreciate I’m not as dazzling as a baby dragon.”

 

Jared laughed. “I’m glad of your company all the same,” he said warmly. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Lady Loretta’s eyes flicker, and made a mental note to reassure her in private that he hadn’t developed feelings for Captain Harris. As competent as she was, and as much as Samantha had revolutionised the monarchy by choosing Jeff, Jared didn’t think anyone would be happy about that… including Captain Harris, if the way she occasionally snuck glances at Genevieve was any indication.

 

Jared looked again at the note. This might be his best chance of finding out what Princess Erica intended in regards to forming an alliance with Val Deauvin. Alyonis needed that information, and it had absolutely nothing to do with how breathtakingly handsome both Prince Misha and Prince Jensen were.

 

Nothing at all.

 

*

 

“Oh!” Princess Erica breathed, entranced. “Oh, she’s _beautiful._ Her wings…! And her tail’s almost as long as she is!”

_My tail’s perfectly proportional,_ Myrtle huffed, though she didn’t sound truly annoyed. _At least this one recognises magnificence when she sees it._

 

Jared smiled. “She says thank you.” He was even more grateful that he’d brought Myrtle along. In addition to moral support, her presence had smoothed over the beginning of their conversation. Jared wondered if Princess Erica knew about his meeting with her brother, and had been half-braced to field questions on that very subject.

 

“She says…?” Princess Erica blinked. “You can _talk_ to her? Kat never mentioned…” 

 

It took Jared a moment to work out who she meant. His stomach clenched. The beta princesses of Montisierre and Val Deauvin had had years to grow close, just as their older brothers had. How was he supposed to convince either kingdom to marry someone in his family instead?

 

Then again, all their years together had likely made them well aware of each other’s flaws. Perhaps there was still hope. And if Princess Erica didn’t _know_ about Prince Jensen and that omega…

 

Loathe as he was to admit it, Jared had abandoned the idea that the encounter he witnessed was anything but consensual. If he went into heat again while he was here, he’d return to his initial suspicion, but he was increasingly convinced that stress was to blame. If neither of the alpha princes had propelled him into heat, it seemed unfair to suspect them of doing the same to others. And the look in Prince Jensen’s eyes… it was like that omega was the Val Deauvin sun that never set.

 

As much as a tiny part of Jared wouldn’t mind an alpha looking at _him_ like that, it made him wary of Prince Jensen. If the omega was his true love, perhaps the southern prince intended to marry him instead of Princess Erica. That then meant Princess Katherine and Prince Misha would form the alliance between Montisierre and Val Deauvin… which meant Alyonis was in trouble. Tempting as it was to imagine offering Justin to Princess Erica, he was currently next-in-line to be First Alpha. There was no way he could marry a foreign princess who would expect Justin to live in her kingdom.

 

Jared’s head hurt already, and the meeting had only just begun.

 

“Myrtle and I have our ways of communicating,” Jared settled on finally. It was hopefully enough of an answer that he wouldn’t appear rude, but also cryptic enough to continue to intrigue Princess Erica.

 

She looked curiously at him, and then gestured to the jug beside her. “Do you want some lemonade? I’ll pour myself some as well if you do.”

 

“Yes, please.” All the same, Jared waited until she’d swallowed before reaching for his own glass. Even though Myrtle would have told him if it had been poisoned, Jared didn’t particularly want others to realise that if they wanted to kill him, poison wasn’t the method to choose.

 

“I wanted to apologise for not dining with you this week,” Princess Erica said. “I appreciate that it must have seemed very rude to you, but I judged it the best course of action. We’re both guests of Val Deauvin, and I didn’t want to insist on being there when the southerners were getting to know you. My brother and I will join you again this week, if you don’t mind.”

 

Jared blinked, taking a sip of lemonade to buy himself some time. Was that a question, or was she just being polite? What would she do if he said that he did mind, that she had to keep both her brother and her potential mate well away from him because he feared how he’d react if he saw them again? “That would be nice,” he said eventually, with a smile. Flicking a glance at Captain Harris, who stood to one side, set apart from the southern guards, he decided to add, “I feared that I’d offended you.”

 

“Not at all,” Princess Erica said, with reassuring swiftness. “In fact, I… I also wanted to thank you. What you said about my parents…”

 

Jared was suddenly struck by how young she was, not much older than Jake and yet destined to rule in a way that Jake never would, even if he did mate Justin and become the First Omega, and felt oddly protective of her for a second. He shook the feeling off quickly. Vulnerable as she might have appeared in that moment, Princess Erica was still the heir of Montisierre. Jared had to be wary.

 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said softly. News of the northern massacre had taken a while to reach Alyonis, who at the time had been embroiled in their own civil war. It had taken years for them to understand the full implications, and they still weren’t entirely sure why the crown princess and her older brother had ended up in Val Deauvin. Jared sensed now wasn’t the time to ask, though.

 

“It was a long time ago,” Princess Erica replied, her voice stronger than time. “But… I still appreciated the acknowledgement.” She smiled at Myrtle, who’d wriggled down from Jared’s neck to settle in his lap. “Does everyone in Alyonis have a dragon?”

 

“No,” Jared said, laughing at the idea. “It’s exceptionally rare. I’m the only one I know.” He stroked along Myrtle’s flank, trying to ignore his rush of guilt. It should have been Milo sitting here, dragon in his lap, conversing with the northern crown princess. Milo would have easily charmed her – would have easily charmed all the royals, in fact. Even if he also admired Prince Misha’s eyes or Prince Jensen’s mouth, he wouldn’t have allowed it to distract him.

 

“We have dragons in Montisierre,” Princess Erica was saying, and Jared forced himself to pay attention, “but none as brightly coloured as yours. They’re used to camouflaging themselves in the snow, sweeping down from the highest mountains or rising up from the deepest trenches in the ocean. Few who glimpse them live to tell the tale. I always thought Alyonis’ must be even worse, but…”

 

Jared wasn’t entirely certain how to respond. The Montisierre dragons sounded like creatures of nightmares, but he didn’t want her thinking Alyonis’ were docile, and applying that word to Alyonis in general… “Are there many dragons left in Montisierre?”

 

“Attacks on humans are rare,” Princess Erica said, understanding his real question. “And I’m not always convinced that what people claim are attacks truly are. What about Alyonis?”

 

If he wanted information from her, Jared reminded himself, he had to be willing to offer some in return. “My ancestors made an agreement with the dragons years ago. They don’t attack humans, and in return we don’t attack them. It’s worked well so far.” Mentioning that they had dragons living under their castle was a topic for a much later conversation.

 

Princess Erica stared. Before she could speak, a servant brought out a tier of small cakes and sandwiches, and set it down between them with a bow.

 

“Thank you,” Jared said warmly, delighted by the spread before him, and was surprised by how red the servant turned before he hurried away.

 

Princess Erica reached for a small green cake, smiling slightly. “If you keep dazzling the servants like that, Gilbert might start insisting they all wear blindfolds.”

 

Jared looked blankly at her. It was her turn to blush.

 

“Oh, you know…” she put a piece of cake in her mouth and chewed slowly, perhaps hoping he’d change the subject. When he didn’t, she sighed. “We don’t see many omegas here. And even if we did… I imagine you’d still be unusual.”

_Because I’m from Alyonis_ , Jared thought. He wondered if they would have reacted the same way to Milo, or if alphas being far less uncommon would have lessened that. “I suppose,” he said, glancing at her from under his eyelashes as he reached for a cake with yellow icing, “they must also be curious about someone with only six great-grandparents.”

 

Her pale skin, which had returned to its normal hue, reddened again. “Well, yes,” she said, her eyes fixed on the tier before them as she deliberated between sandwiches. “As I’m sure you know, it’s not a custom in either of our kingdoms.” She hesitated. “Jensen didn’t mean to offend you. I know his first words weren’t ones anyone would be thrilled with, but none of us expected you to be so… so… Wait. _Six_ great-grandparents?”

 

Struck by how casually she used the southern prince’s name, as well as by how comfortable she felt discussing his intentions, it took Jared a second to answer. “Yes,” he said, equally puzzled. “Six.”

 

“Not two?”

 

“Not…? Oh. My parents aren’t related.” He’d never had to say those words, and they tasted strange on his tongue.

 

“Oh!” Princess Erica abandoned the tier entirely and turned her full attention to him. “So Alyonis no longer mates siblings?”

 

“Only the royal family ever mated siblings,” Jared corrected gently, “but my brother and I don’t intend to marry each other.”

 

The words hurt to say. If Milo was safely at home, it would have been different, but when Jared had no idea where he was…

 

He avoided the topic of Justin. He was a cousin, and a distant one at that, so it wasn’t lying not to mention him.

 

“So your parents aren’t siblings, and you don’t intend to marry a sibling…” Erica sounded thoughtful. She smiled at him. “Another cake? The one with blue icing’s delicious.”

 

Jared didn’t know what to make of the sudden cheer in her voice, but reached for her recommendation all the same.

 

She was right. It was delicious.

 

*

 

“I know you’re there. Be thankful that his guard didn’t realise.”

 

Misha sighed and manoeuvred his way through the trees, Jensen close behind him.

 

Erica, languidly reclining in a chair, soaking up the sunlight, rolled her eyes. “If you’d accepted my invitation to join us, you wouldn’t have needed to spy. I bet you didn’t hear much from there.”

 

“We heard enough,” Misha huffed, dropping into Prince Jared’s recently departed chair, and trying to ignore how warm it felt. He also tried to ignore the memory of what else had been here, and how amazing it would have been to see a baby dragon up close. There would be other opportunities… hopefully.

 

Jensen leaned against the table, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Erica,” he said softly. It wasn’t hard for him to put people under a spell with those green eyes, and Misha could see Erica softening. “It was Misha’s idea –”

 

Misha aimed a kick at him, indignant, which Jensen easily dodged, laughing. 

 

“Of that I have no doubt,” Erica said, but she couldn’t stop her smile. “I hope this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence, though.”

 

“One time only, I promise.” Misha never broke his promises, and he didn’t intend to break this one either. The temptation to have been by his sister’s side for this meeting had been near overwhelming, but something held him back. He needed to see how Prince Jared acted with Erica when he thought he was alone, and if that gave Misha an opportunity to unabashedly admire him, that was just fortunate. Jensen had taken a bit more convincing, but he’d conceded in the end, as Misha knew he would. When one of them was getting into trouble, the other was always by his side, consequences be damned. 

 

“Well?” Erica asked. “What’s the verdict?”

 

“What’s _your_ verdict?” Misha asked quickly.

 

She shrugged, but the gleam in her eyes ruined the nonchalant effect. “That he’s even lovelier up close – those _eyes_ – and that our information on Alyonis is apparently a bit out of date. His parents aren’t siblings.”

 

Though nothing about her gave it away, Misha knew she was thinking, _If you hadn’t dragged Jensen along with you, that titbit could have been ours and ours alone._

_The southerners would have found out eventually,_ he defended to himself. _Besides, Jensen’s practically one of us…_

 

“Thanks for trying to defend me,” Jensen mumbled, perching on the armrest of Misha’s chair. Normally, Misha would have tried to push him off, just to see if he could (and Jensen would return the favour next time their positions were reversed), but Jensen looked so downcast that he decided against it.

 

“You could have met him and defended yourself,” Erica said gently. “There was no reason for you to avoid him this week.”

 

Misha flashed her a warning look behind Jensen’s back, which she ignored. Jensen had every reason to avoid Prince Jared. Erica knew about their encounter with him in the port – Misha had never kept secrets from her – but whether Prince Jared was going to mention it to the southerners was still a mystery. If they found out Jensen had seen Matt after they’d expressly forbidden it…

 

Admittedly, Prince Jared might still mention it without Jensen being there, but Misha understood Jensen’s reluctance entirely. Who knew what all Prince Jared was capable of? If he didn’t plan to mate his brother, who did he want?

 

Could Alyonis possibly want an alliance? And if so, with who?

_They reached out to Val Deauvin,_ Misha reminded himself. _But… Erica and I are also here._

 

If they wanted a mate for Prince Milo, Katherine was the only option, unless they intended to force an amalgamation through Erica – which Montisierre would never allow. But if Prince Jared was their preferred candidate…

_They might want Alaina, but I doubt the southerners would allow that. Having someone from Alyonis in the role of their beloved consort… I think their citizens would riot. They’ll want someone like Gilbert – well-bred, attractive, and, most of all, from a long line of southern nobles. So that leaves…_

 

“I’ll see him again when you two return to dining with us,” Jensen said. He sounded carefree, and Misha didn’t think anyone but him could have heard the eagerness in Jensen’s voice.

 

Lord Matthew Cohen was inappropriate, as Gilbert had insisted over and over again. But Prince Jared… He might be suitable. He might be more than suitable, in fact, a partner that would benefit Val Deauvin without threatening Alaina’s position. No southerner would support a coup that would seek to put someone from Alyonis on the throne, leaving Jensen free to remain in his homeland. Katherine would forge the alliance with Montisierre instead.

 

It was a beautiful day, but Misha suddenly felt cold. Jensen’s younger sister was well-read and quick-witted, as beautiful as Jensen was handsome, and he’d been willing to marry her if it meant Jensen could marry who he really loved, even as a part of him still wished Jensen would marry Erica. Having his best friend by his side forever would be wonderful.

 

But he didn’t know if he could marry Katherine if it meant Jensen would marry Prince Jared... and it had shamefully little to do with the fact that it would mean Val Deauvin had alliances with both Montisierre and Alyonis.


	5. Chapter 5

_Fifteen-year-old Jared knocked on his twin’s door with that month’s combination of two slow knocks, three quick ones, and the final one three seconds later. No response. When he tried the door, it was unlocked._

_“Mi,” he began, peeking in, and then froze as he caught sight of Milo’s tear streaked face before his brother rolled over on his bed. Jared shut the door behind him, locking it for good measure._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“Nothing,” Milo mumbled, face firmly shoved in his pillow. “Go away.”_

_Jared crossed the room and sat down beside him, squeezing Milo’s shoulder gently, reassured when he didn’t pull away. “Please talk to me. Did someone do something? Say something?”_

_“It doesn’t matter.”_

_“Of course it does.”_

_The silence stretched, but Jared’s patience was rewarded as Milo gradually relaxed under his hold. The faint hitches of his breath suggested that he was still crying, so Jared stretched out beside him, their legs brushing. Once, they’d fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle, but Jared was two inches taller now, and Jeff thought his greatest growth spurt was still to come. Jared hoped he was wrong. He couldn’t bear the distance between him and his other half to grow any greater. Having to be apart from Milo when he went through his rut and when Jared endured his heat was bad enough, though at least their cycles seemed to have mostly synced. Even biology knew that they shouldn’t be forced apart for too long._

_“Tell me,” he whispered into Milo’s ear. “If someone hurt you then I’ll make them wish they’d never been born –”_

_Milo huffed out something that might have been a laugh. “I thought omegas were meant to look to alphas for protection, not the other way around.”_

_Jared frowned slightly, trying to hide his hurt even though Milo wasn’t looking at him. “I thought alphas weren’t meant to cry.”_

_Milo stiffened angrily, but then sighed. “Fair point.”_

_Jared waited, but he didn’t say anything else. “You know I don’t believe that. Anyone who wants to should cry – it’s healthy.”_

_“Alphas should have better control of themselves,” Milo said immediately, almost as though he couldn’t help himself._

_Jared tightened his hold. “The Goddess cried when Her firstborn died.”_

_“I’m not a god.”_

_To Jared, he might as well have been. “No one would think any less of me or Adrianne or Jake for crying. Why should it be different for you?”_

_“Can you imagine Justin crying?”_

_Jared rolled his eyes. Justin seemed to be Milo’s favourite topic of conversation these days. “I don’t need to imagine. I’ve seen him.”_

_“Yeah, when he was six! That doesn’t –”_

_“He was eight, actually.”_

_“So a child, then, thus proving my point.”_

_“No, it proves_ my _point that alphas can cry and shouldn’t be thought less of –”_

_Milo wriggled out of his hold, making Jared’s heart jump into his mouth, but when his brother turned around, he was smiling. “Do you think there’s anyone in the three kingdoms more stubborn than you?”_

_“I’m looking at someone who fits that criteria right now!” Jared protested, but he was smiling too._

_Milo reached out and pulled him closer, Jared coming willingly, until it felt like they were breathing the same air. Not for the first time, Jared thought that if they’d been born just twenty years earlier, Milo would probably have been his mate. The thought should have repulsed him, but perhaps those instincts had been bred out of his family a long time ago. Picturing kissing Milo left his stomach tied up in knots, half of him curious to know what a kiss would feel like and half of him disgusted by the thought of tongues touching, but picturing the emotional side of being mated… No one understood him like Milo did. No one ever would._

_“I overheard one of the servants earlier,” Milo said, so quietly that Jared almost didn’t hear him._

_“What did they say?” Jared resolved to push for a name later._

_“It’s stupid.”_

_“Tell me and we can laugh about it together.”_

_“I’m afraid… I’m afraid you won’t laugh.”_

_Alphas weren’t supposed to be afraid either, but neither of them pointed it out. “Whatever you say to me,” Jared said, slow and steady, “won’t change how I feel about you. There’s nothing in the entire universe that could make me let go of you.”_

_He matched his breathing to Milo’s, certain that their hearts were beating in sync._

_“He said that the only omega I liked kissing was you.”_

_Jared blinked. He’d been afraid someone had confirmed Milo’s belief that Justin would make a better ruler, and had been preparing his argument against that. It took him a moment to scrabble for the right response._

_“Well… they’re not wrong, are they? You don’t have a secret lover, and Jake doesn’t even like Dad kissing him at the moment –” Jared wouldn’t have minded moving the conversation onto how irritating their younger brother had become recently, absolutely adamant that anything Milo and Jared were doing he could do too, even as he was almost half a foot shorter than them, and insistent that no one was to treat him like a baby (even Adrianne, generally sympathetic as the next youngest, had grown tired of hearing that phrase), but Milo wasn’t to be swayed._

_“I think that was their point. Justin’s had his first kiss, maybe even more.”_

_Jared wrinkled his nose at the thought. Justin’s physical appeal was obvious, but he was so_ annoying _…_ _Jared was convinced anyone willing to sleep with Justin must never have had a real conversation with him. “Which just proves how unsuitable Justin is to be First Alpha, doesn’t it?” he said, quick as a flash. “Those sorts of activities should be reserved for a mate. At least whoever you marry –”_

_“I don’t want to get married. Not… not to an omega, at least.”_

_Jared’s heart pounded in his throat. They’d been on the verge of this conversation for months, and now that it was finally here, he wished it wasn’t. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing now that Milo was willing to confide in him. “What about a beta?” He suspected he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Milo say it._

_“I don’t want a beta either.” Milo breathed out shakily. “What’s wrong with me?”_

_“Nothing!” Jared said fiercely, holding onto Milo so tightly he feared he’d leave bruises. “Nothing’s wrong with you.”_

_“Alphas aren’t meant to feel like this.”_

_Jared bit his bottom lip, uncertain, wishing he knew more about this so that he could speak with greater authority. “Do you… do you want to be an omega? Or a beta?”_

_“No… At least, I don’t_ think _so.” Milo frowned. “I mean, it’d be nice to look at an alpha and think they were attractive without hating myself for it.” Jared swallowed down the instinctive need to reassure him, sensing it was more important to let Milo talk. “But when I think about sex…” he glanced at Jared, ears flaming. Jared nodded for him to continue, trying not to blush himself. He couldn’t help wondering if Milo had his eye on anyone in particular, and felt a twinge of petty jealousy. He was accustomed to being first in Milo’s world, and found that he didn’t relish the idea of sharing. “I don’t imagine myself as an omega. I’m still… me. I’m just with an alpha.”_

_“Maybe,” Jared said hesitantly, “maybe our kingdom has it wrong. Maybe being an alpha has nothing to do with being attracted to omegas or betas. Maybe you’re just as much an alpha if you’re attracted to other alphas.”_

_Milo snorted. “Val Deauvin and even Montisierre might believe that, but Alyonis never will. What am I going to do?”_

_The despair in his voice frightened Jared, though he was careful not to show it. Milo had always been the brave one, checking the bedroom when strange noises sounded in the middle of the night and hunting down the big hairy spiders that Jared loathed._

_“We’ll figure it out,” Jared said firmly. If Milo needed him to be the fearless one for once, then that was what he’d be. “Perhaps… perhaps you could take a beta or an omega as a mate in public, and have an alpha lover in private?” Discussing Milo’s sex life in such intimate detail was uncomfortable, but he forced himself to speak calmly._

_Milo wrinkled his nose. “Maybe.”_

_“Or you could rule and not take a mate,” Jared said, warming to this new idea, “and then name your eldest alpha niece or nephew as heir?” It had happened in the past, though it was extremely rare._

_Milo stared. “Have you got someone in mind to sire your children?”_

_His tone sounded off, and even if he was protective rather than jealous at the thought of Jared having an alpha, Jared took comfort in the fact that he wasn’t alone in not wanting to be replaced in his twin’s affections._

_“Of course not. But Jake might want a mate, or Adrianne, or even Justin –”_

_“Your child would be my heir, not theirs.”_

_Jared laughed. “My child might be the youngest. I bet they’ll all marry before I do.”_

_“Don’t care.” Milo’s eyes were brighter than they’d been in weeks, maybe even months. “Your child will be the heir.”_

_Jared rolled his eyes, but he did it fondly. He couldn’t exactly scold Milo for favouritism when he was just as bad. They’d come up with their knocking scheme in the first place so they didn’t have to unlock the door for relatives they didn’t want to see, though they changed it frequently. Jake was getting awfully good at spying, though his attempts to imitate their code were still hopeless. Jeff had told them off just last night for excluding Jake, but Jared didn’t see why they had to invite him into every part of their lives. He hadn’t grown in Jeff’s womb alongside them (Jared was wise enough not to say that, though)._

_All the same… he hoped a different solution might present itself when the time arose. Even if Milo never had a biological child, he still deserved to have the alpha he loved acknowledged in public, and Jared wasn’t sure that he personally wanted a mate at all. Unmated royal omegas occasionally joined either the Dark or Light Orders, the first religious sect viewing the moon as the Goddess’ first creation while the second believed it was the sun. Jared sometimes thought one of those would suit him well._

_“Jared?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_Milo reached for his hand, entwining their fingers together, dark eyes barely blinking. Jared often wished he had those eyes. “Don’t ever leave me, okay? I couldn’t survive without you.”_

_If he joined either Order, his loyalty would be commanded first by the Goddess and secondly by his fellow Order members. Milo would have to come a distant third._

_Jared squeezed his brother’s hand. Nothing would ever come before Milo. “I promise.”_

 

Jared opened his eyes. It took him a long time to realise that his cheeks were wet. Milo never had made the same promise. Jared had been too stupid to realise he should have asked for it. Perhaps, if he had, Milo would still…

 

Jared got out of bed, grasping the dagger underneath his pillow as he did so, and reached for the candle burning by his bedside, before crossing the room to his makeshift altar. He gazed at the statue of his Goddess for a long moment before overturning a small bowl that had been positioned face down.

 

He dragged the knife across his lower arm slowly, a little below his previous cuts, hissing at the pain. A few drops of blood immediately welled up, and Jared stretched his arm out over the bowl. He closed his eyes.

 

“Please.” His lips formed the word soundlessly. “Please protect my brother and bring him home.”

 

His blood was the blood of the Goddess. She had to answer eventually. If not, Jared would bleed himself dry.

 

*

 

Though cooked breakfasts were still his favourite, Jared had grown to enjoy following a southern diet. The fruits they had were incredible, in colours and shapes that Jared had never seen before, each sweeter than the last. He wondered if the trees that spawned them could grow in Alyonis, or if it would be too cold for them.

 

It helped to think about questions like that, instead of dwelling on how this was the first meal since the night he’d gone into heat where every royal had been present. Princess Erica had smiled as he entered, the last one there, though he appeared at exactly the time he’d been told breakfast would be served, and Princess Alaina had inclined her head, but their friendliness had done nothing to soothe the butterflies in his stomach. This room was smaller and far more intimate than King Mitchell’s Great Hall, and the circular table followed suit. Jared took the last seat, between Princess Katherine and King-Consort Gilbert, and tried not to think about how close Prince Misha and Prince Jensen were, seated to the left of Princess Katherine. He hadn’t been so near to Prince Misha since their first meeting. He hadn’t ever been so near to Prince Jensen.

 

“Sleep well?” King Mitchell inquired brightly, from the other side of his husband. “I imagine we tired you out this week.”

 

“I enjoyed every moment,” Jared replied. Perhaps the one advantage of sending an omega instead of an alpha was that the sugar-sweet tone Jared used didn’t seem inappropriate when talking to Val Deauvin’s monarch… though King-Consort Gilbert’s grip on his fork seemed to tighten.

 

“I’m glad,” King Mitchell said, eyes darkening, and Jared had the brief, uncomfortable thought that the king might be picturing other ways he could have tired Jared out that week. He squashed the urge to shudder in revulsion. Alyonis needed the alliance, and if Jared had to flirt a little to get it, that was a small price to pay. Rumours of the southern king’s roaming eye had evidently not been exaggerated. Jared wondered if he’d mated King-Consort Gilbert for love, or if theirs had been an arranged marriage. For his family, the thought of marrying someone you didn’t know and hadn’t chosen was as repugnant as marrying siblings was to Val Deauvin and Montisierre.

 

“Next week will be quieter,” Princess Alaina said politely. “We didn’t want to overwhelm you, and we’re in the midst of preparing for the Games.”

 

Jared looked at her in interest.

 

“The Games are one of the biggest events here,” Princess Erica said, noticing his expression. “Southerners all across the kingdom compete in various athletic events. It lasts for about a week, and it feels like half of Val Deauvin shows up in the capital.”

 

“Erica’s just bitter because the sport she excels at has yet to be invented,” Prince Misha said, with a fond smile. He only caught Jared’s eye for a second before returning to his breakfast, but Jared still swore that his heart skipped a beat. The clear affection towards a younger beta only made the northern prince more attractive, but Jared told himself not to be taken in by it. Even the murderous Queen Allison had loved her sister-mate.

 

“And when it is, I’ll be remembered as its champion,” Princess Erica shot back. “What are _you_ going to be remembered for, darling brother? Is it the ability to lose to Jensen all the time?”

 

“He beat me in our last archery contest,” Prince Jensen protested, but he was grinning.

 

“Only because you let him,” Princess Erica said.

 

Princess Katherine snorted. “Jensen couldn’t _let_ anyone win if his life depended on it –”

 

“You’re welcome to watch the Games, if you like,” Princess Alaina said, ignoring her younger siblings. “I don’t suppose anything like it exists in Alyonis.”

 

“Our population’s smaller than yours,” Jared agreed, though it was difficult to keep his tone mild. He wondered if Val Deauvin believed themselves to be superior to Montisierre too, and if that annoyed Princess Erica and Prince Misha as much as it annoyed him. “Are the events segregated by gender, or can anyone compete?”

 

“Alphas compete against alphas, and betas compete against betas,” Prince Jensen said, glancing directly at Jared. Unlike Prince Misha, he didn’t look away. “Occasionally a beta pretends to be an alpha, and only reveals the disguise at the end, but that’s rarer now.” 

 

The uncomfortable twist to his mouth suggested that he understood Jared’s feelings about omegas being excluded. Jared wondered if he’d always held that position, or if it was only explaining the set-up to an omega that made him realise the unfairness.  

 

“And omegas?” Jared asked lightly, as though he didn’t much care. If his family did somehow welcome one of the people sitting around this table into their midst, that person would need to understand how treasured omegas were in Alyonis.

 

“They’ve never expressed any interest in participating,” King-Consort Gilbert said, slicing a piece of fruit on his plate with surprising force, waving back a servant who stepped forward to help. “Besides, they’re so few in number it wouldn’t be much of a competition.”

 

“Of course,” Jared murmured. “I look forward to seeing the Games. I’m sure they’ll be an excellent display of Val Deauvin’s strength and skill.”   

_And bigotry,_ he thought but didn’t add. The flattery was worth the pleased smiles he received from King Mitchell and Princess Alaina, even as King-Consort Gilbert’s narrow-eyed look suggested that he wasn’t fooled. Did he have the power to block a marriage between their families? Jared hoped the chance to ally with Alyonis would overrule the beta’s personal dislike of Jared. It wasn’t as though _Jared_ was going to be the one Alyonis offered up. Perhaps Adrianne would be more to his taste… or perhaps he’d loathe any omega.

_I don’t want to subject Adrianne – or Jake – to a monstrous beta-in-law,_ Jared thought. _Whereas with Montisierre…_

“I compete in some of the events,” Prince Jensen said, and then reddened and looked down at his plate.

 

“He’s very good,” Princess Erica offered, though she looked faintly puzzled.

 

“He is,” Princess Alaina said, with sudden enthusiasm. “Last year he won the jousting tournament and the javelin throw, and he scored very highly in the wrestling. If it hadn’t been for that brute from the western coast –”

 

“We were convinced he was part-bear,” Princess Erica told Jared with a small smile. “I wonder if he’ll come out of hibernation again this year?”

 

“If he does, you can show him what for, son,” King Mitchell boomed.      

 

“Misha won the shot put last year,” Princess Katherine said, glancing at the alpha in question. Jared wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a hint of possessiveness in her voice. “If he enters the wrestling –”

 

“If Jensen couldn’t beat him, there’s no way Misha could,” Princess Erica said.

 

“Thanks for the support,” Prince Misha said, rolling his eyes. “As always, it’s deeply appreciated.”

 

“Will you two enter the same events for once?” Princess Katherine asked. “It’s the last year you’ll be able to.”

 

Jared took care not to look too intrigued as he glanced at the alpha princes. Competing in different events seemed an oddly… _brotherly_ approach to take, as though they wished to spare the other the humiliation of losing to a friend-turned-rival in public. Whenever Alyonis held tournaments, though theirs were far narrower in scope than Val Deauvin’s sounded, Justin had no qualms about competing against Milo – and usually beating him. Justin was three years older, as Jared had to constantly remind his discouraged twin and an overly impressed Jake. Justin shouldn’t receive praise for a victory under those conditions.

 

Jared didn’t know the exact ages of the princes, but they didn’t seem far apart. If consideration for the other’s feelings was their motivation… Their parents had likely expected them to be bitter rivals. That they were best friends instead suggested a promising future for each of their countries.

 

Unfortunately, anything that benefitted the north and the south harmed Jared’s kingdom.

 

“We’ll decide nearer the time,” Prince Jensen mumbled, eyes fixed on his plate. Next to him, Prince Misha nodded, also avoiding eye contact.

_Hmm,_ Jared thought. That sounded to him like they’d already decided against doing so, and just didn’t want to let their families know yet.

 

A sudden thought occurred to him. Could the relationship between the two princes actually be a little more… romantic than platonic? If one of them was a beta, he would have wondered about that immediately. Could he be blind to their true feelings because of his own assumptions about alphas? Yes, Prince Jensen had gazed adoringly at that omega, but the southerners had a word for people that liked both alphas and non-alphas. They called them ‘bisexual.’ Jared’s southern tutor had skipped that word, and it had only been through reading out-of-date southern newspapers his kingdom had somehow purloined that Jared had discovered it for himself. No equivalent word existed in his language.

 

As wonderful as it was for them to have found someone they loved, someone their equal in looks and power, it drastically reduced Alyonis’ chances of forming an alliance. Why would either of them want to marry Adrianne or Jake when they could either marry each other (Jared was almost certain that same-sex marriage existed in Montisierre too) or marry the beta sister of their beloved, allowing them to remain in the same kingdom and granting them the option to have children that might look like their alpha mate?

 

Jared refused to examine his own feelings on the possibility of the two most attractive alphas he’d ever known being a couple. How he felt was irrelevant.

 

“… might not be back in time,” King-Consort Gilbert was saying, and Jared could have kicked himself for missing the first part of his statement.

 

“I’m sure Jensen won’t have any trouble dealing with that half-wit filth,” King Mitchell huffed. Jared’s own parents might disagree, but he couldn’t imagine Samantha speaking to Jeff like that, even in private. 

 

“That ‘half-wit’,” King-Consort Gilbert’s voice resembled ice, “had no difficulty escaping the band of soldiers that _you_ recommended.”

 

“He got lucky once! It won’t happen again. Jensen will manage – unless you prefer that Alaina go instead?”

 

If Jared had blinked at that moment, he would have missed the flicker of eagerness that crossed Princess Alaina’s face.

 

“Of course not,” her beta father huffed. The look he turned on Prince Misha was only marginally less cold. “I suppose you’ll want to go as well?”

 

Prince Misha glanced at his sister, who nodded. The northern alpha straightened up. “If Jensen doesn’t mind my company.”

 

“I suppose I can put up with you for a little longer,” Prince Jensen said lightly, and the quick, conspiratorial smiles they shared made Jared lean forward unconsciously, longing to be closer.

 

He had to find a way to go with them, wherever their destination was. It was his best chance to find out exactly what their relationship was, and to figure out a way to use it to Alyonis’ advantage.

 

*

 

“You can’t be serious,” Genevieve said, freezing with the brush halfway through his hair.

 

“Do you think they’ll refuse?” Jared asked, making sure to remain very still.

 

“Of course they’ll refuse!” Genevieve removed the brush entirely, to his relief. “Why would they take a visiting royal into a dangerous situation? Especially one who looks like you.”

 

Jared frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

Genevieve stared at his reflection in the mirror. She laughed, but she didn’t sound amused. “There’s no need to be modest, Your Highness. The scumbag they’re after has been abducting betas. What do you think he’ll do when offered the chance to add a beautiful omega to his collection, hmm?” 

 

Jared’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

 

“Precisely,” Genevieve said, sounding smug.

 

“That’s not what I…” Jared tilted his head to one side, annoyance at her misunderstanding loosening his tongue. “You’re a _beta_.”

 

“Yes…? Your Highness, the alpha they’re after is more than a week’s ride away. _I’m_ not in any danger –”

 

“I didn’t mean that,” Jared said, “though I’m still relieved to hear it. But how can you possibly think that I’m…?”

 

“Beautiful?” Genevieve said the word like it wasn’t momentous at all. “Oh, c’mon. I’ve got eyes, haven’t I?”

 

Jared looked to Captain Harris for help, but the alpha was studiously gazing in the opposite direction. Gritting his teeth, Jared turned back to Genevieve.

 

“You’re a beta,” he said again, willing her to understand, “and I’m an omega. Aren’t you meant to…?”

 

“To hate you?” Genevieve guessed, forehead clearing. “Your Highness, I won’t pretend that Val Deauvin’s treated your kind well in the past, but we’ve grown now. You and I could even marry if we wanted.”

 

Jared’s eyes widened so much it felt painful.

 

“Well, perhaps not,” Genevieve said, laughing more genuinely that time. “I’m still just a servant.”

 

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” Jared corrected gently. “Does that happen a lot here? Betas and omegas mating?” The idea was so strange to him that he half-expected her to say she was joking.

 

“Well, I don’t personally know anyone who’s done it. But legally it could happen.” She half-smiled. “I suppose not in Alyonis, though?”  

 

Jared shook his head. As much time as he’d spent contemplating alpha-alpha pairings, and omega-omega ones and beta-beta ones by extension, the possibility of betas and omegas being together had never even crossed his mind. They were just too… different.

 

“Is homosexuality really forbidden in your kingdom?” Genevieve asked tentatively.

 

Jared swallowed, feeling a rush of shame. “Yes.”

 

“Between _all_ the groups, or just alphas? Beta-beta relationships were never actually illegal here, but only because our ancient lawmakers thought real sex had to involve a knot.”

 

Jared stared at her in stunned silence. “It doesn’t?” he said weakly. 

 

Genevieve stared back, clearly as shocked by him as he was by her. His face felt like it was on fire.

 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “You must think that I’m…” _Backwards. Provincial. Every inch the inbred vermin your country thinks I am._ “I didn’t mean to… to offend you, I…”

 

“You didn’t offend me.” Genevieve resumed brushing his hair, so lightly that he could barely feel it. “I didn’t mean to offend _you_.”

 

“You didn’t.”

 

She relaxed. “So you’re not going to banish me from your chambers, vowing never to see that deviant beta again?”

 

Jared laughed. “No. I’m always grateful for what you tell me. I’m just sorry that I know so little.”

 

“I always thought being royal meant never having to apologise,” Genevieve said quietly. “We’re both learning.” Her expression lightened. “I’m still certain that Prince Jensen won’t take you with him, though.”

 

“Any ideas on how to convince him?”

 

Genevieve bit down hard on her bottom lip, avoiding his gaze as the colour rose in her cheeks. Jared straightened up, intrigued.

 

“You _do_ have an idea.”

 

“Not one that I wish to say out loud.” 

 

“Please, Genevieve – you’re so much smarter than I am, I’ll never be able to figure it out on my own.”

 

Genevieve snorted. “Your honeyed words might work on the king, but they won’t work on me.” She finally met his eyes. “And, as lovely as your mouth is, I doubt they’ll work on Prince Jensen either. He responds to reason, not passion.” She hesitated. “He also likes it when people treat Lord Misha with respect.”

 

“Lord?”

 

“That’s how he’s referred to within Val Deauvin’s borders.”

 

Jared frowned. “Am I a lord?”

 

“Not as far as I know, Your Highness.”

 

“You can call me Jared, you know.”

 

“I know, Your Highness.” Her teeth gleamed in the mirror. “You can call me Gen.”

 

“I won’t call you Gen until you call me Jared,” he said, exasperated, but shared in her laugh. “That’s your advice, then? I need to convince the southern prince that it would be logical to take me, and be polite to the northern prince while I do it?”

 

Genevieve shrugged. “My first thought was that you could greet them naked in your chambers and go from there, but your interpretation sounds better.”

 

“Genevieve!” Captain Harris said, appalled.

 

“I think I liked it better when you were still afraid of me,” Jared said, as red as a tomato. A part of him longed to ask if she thought that might actually work, but there was no way he would be able to get through the sentence without combusting.

 

Genevieve smirked. “I was never afraid of you. I was just dazzled by your good looks.”

 

“Okay, enough!” Jared stood up, flustered. “If I write a note to Prince Jensen asking to meet with him, will you deliver it?”

 

“Allow me to show it to Lord Misha as well, and you have yourself a deal.”

 

“I shouldn’t have to make _deals_ with you,” Jared protested, but he was still smiling. It had been a long time since his face had formed the expression so freely. It felt good.

 

*

 

Jensen tightened his bag of possessions over one shoulder, gritting his teeth. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. Instead of him and Misha riding off into danger under cover of darkness, disguised as ordinary citizens, they were travelling as a group of five: the two of them accompanied by Captain Harris, Beta Cortese… and Prince Jared.

 

He’d argued furiously against it, of course. It didn’t matter that receiving the prince’s note, displaying immaculate penmanship, had made his heart leap into his throat, or that hearing Misha had been invited too had made him feel a strange mix of pleasure and disappointment. He’d wondered at first if Prince Jared could have guessed who sent the chocolates, and then feared that the omega might corner them about what he’d seen on the beach. It also didn’t matter that, when Prince Jared had met them by the lemon trees (Jensen’s suggestion), his beauty had struck Jensen dumb all over again. There was no way that Jensen was going to take him with them.

 

“I’d very much like to see another part of Val Deauvin,” Prince Jared had said, long eyelashes fluttering.

 

“Then my parents will organise a tour,” Jensen had replied, unimpressed.

 

“Justice forms the bedrock of Val Deauvin society. I’d like to see it in action.”

 

“I’ll accompany you to one of our prisons when I return.” Of course, when Jensen actually meant was that he’d convince one of his sisters to accompany the prince. Alaina would be easier to persuade, but Jensen felt strangely reluctant to give his alpha sister more time to spend alone with Prince Jared (even though they wouldn’t really be _alone_ … the prison inmates would be there, for a start). The thought of Katherine taking him didn’t bother Jensen nearly as much, though he suspected the prince might prefer Alaina’s company.

 

Misha had been little help, lingering half a step behind Jensen and, knowing him, probably barely blinking as he admired Prince Jared. Jensen had itched to kick his fellow alpha, but there was no way to do it subtly.

 

“We can’t guarantee your safety,” Jensen had said, trying to look stern – no easy feat when part of him ached to give Prince Jared whatever he wanted. He told himself that was just the allure of omegas, but even Matt had never affected him this strongly.

 

“You wouldn’t need to,” Prince Jared had replied, irritatingly swiftly, not intimidated at all. “I can guarantee my own safety.”

 

Jensen had looked doubtfully at him, but he half-believed it. Even though omegas were known as the weakest of the three groups (physically, mentally, emotionally… not sexually, though), Prince Jared’s body was long and lean, suggesting that he might be able to hold his own in a serious fight with an alpha, depending on how well he’d been trained. More than that, though, Jensen found it difficult to picture an alpha _wanting_ to fight this omega. He found it difficult to picture an alpha or even a beta wanting to do anything but please this stunning creature…

 

He hardened his heart. The alpha they were after, who went by the name of Heyerdahl, wouldn’t show mercy, no matter how hopefully Prince Jared widened his pretty eyes, and so Jensen couldn’t either.

 

“My decision is final,” he’d said, and left. He’d had to haul Misha along with him, the other alpha seemingly turned to stone by the power of a pouting omega, which had rather ruined the effect, but overall Jensen had thought he made his point well.

 

Then Mitchell had informed Jensen that he didn’t have a choice. Prince Jared was a guest in their country, not a prisoner, and he’d written a note to his alpha mother explaining that he’d chosen to leave of his own accord (though, Jensen thought grumpily, it was all in the prince’s own language, so who knew what it really said? Perhaps it was a plea to invade Val Deauvin if a hair on his head was harmed). According to Gilbert, Prince Jared had claimed that if it was safe enough for a northerner, it was safe enough for him, and, along with his note (and no doubt some blatant flattery), that had been enough to convince Mitchell.

 

Sometimes, Jensen thought, selecting the heir on the basis of who was the eldest was a mistake. They should have an intelligence test instead, and the winner could claim the crown as the prize. He was certain that would make Katherine the heir in his generation… though his father’s younger alpha sister, currently living in a monastery in the north of the kingdom, would have emerged the victor instead of Mitchell, leaving Jensen far out of the line of succession…

 

… and not currently entrusted with the safety of an omega prince from Alyonis. Jensen hadn’t needed the warning from Alaina to watch Prince Jared like a hawk. He doubted that he was going to sleep at all on this trip. It didn’t matter that the prince’s head bodyguard was coming too (and then his southern companion insisted on coming as well, claiming that it would look strange to see a group of three alphas with only one omega… unfortunately she was right, though Jensen’s solution to that would have been to leave Captain Harris and Prince Jared behind). If anything happened, anything at all, Jensen would get the blame… and depending on Queen Samantha’s wrath, all of Val Deauvin might suffer.

 

 _Alyonis are smaller and weaker than us, and they’ve never invaded,_ Jensen reminded himself. _But… we’ve also never had one of their omegas in our possession before._

 

“Good morning,” a sweet sounded behind him, and then there was a sharp intake of breath. “Is that your horse? She’s _gorgeous._ ”

 

Softening in spite of himself, Jensen turned around – and then scowled. “No,” he said firmly. “You can’t take the dragon with you.”

 

Amber eyes narrowed resentfully from Prince Jared’s shoulder.   

 

“I’ll keep her hidden. No one will know she’s there.”

 

If Jensen had tried to command anyone else in his family, he would have been put in his place without a moment’s hesitation. He wouldn’t dare try to order Erica, and, while he felt freer with Misha, the other alpha was just as likely to argue as he was to obey. None of them would have adopted Prince Jared’s coaxing tone of voice, and Jensen found that he had no defence against it. 

 

He huffed for a few seconds, determined not to seem like he gave in too easily (even though he had), and grunted, “Fine.”

 

The prince’s eyes lit up. “Thank you!”

 

Half-afraid of being blinded by that expression, Jensen was grateful when Prince Jared turned back to Baby.

 

“She’s mine,” he said possessively, remembering what the prince’s first question had been. “I’m the only one who can ride her – she bites anyone else who tries.”

 

“I’ll stay well back,” Prince Jared said, looking amused rather than intimidated. “What’s her name?”

 

“Baby.”

 

Prince Jared’s forehead wrinkled. Annoyingly, it didn’t make him any less attractive. “Baby?” he repeated uncertainly.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Like a human infant?”

 

Jensen smiled in spite of himself. “Exactly. When my parents said they had a surprise for me, I thought they meant another sibling… and I wasn’t exactly fond of Katherine at the time.” Or now, come to think of it, but he wasn’t mean enough to say that aloud. “I called her ‘Baby’ as a reminder to myself not to make assumptions about other people.” He didn’t always succeed, admittedly – the evidence of his latest mistake standing right in front of him – but he tried.

 

Prince Jared smiled. “I wasn’t always fond of my younger brother either.”

 

Jensen wondered if he meant Prince Milo. Was Prince Jared the eldest in his family? He’d have that in common with Misha if he was, and with Alyonis only allowing alphas to inherit, they’d both have been first in line had they been born in Val Deauvin instead… 

 

Jensen’s stomach clenched. He told himself he was just uncomfortable with the thought of any connection between Montisierre and Alyonis that excluded Val Deauvin, but he knew it was Misha and Prince Jared in particular that bothered him.

 

He kept one eye on each of them as they travelled to the village Heyerdahl had been terrorising, but he needn’t have worried. Between Captain Harris and Genevieve, Prince Jared wasn’t on his own for even a second. Travelling with a beta and an omega (especially _that_ omega) meant checking into inns rather than sleeping rough, which meant that it took them the full week and a half to arrive in Burnsley, but Jensen didn’t mind as much as he expected. He slept better with a roof over his head, and he wanted to arrive wide-awake rather than sleep-deprived. Mitchell might have called him ‘half-wit,’ but Jensen agreed wholeheartedly with Gilbert on the subject of Heyerdahl’s intelligence.

 

And, though he would never admit it, Jensen’s desire to defeat the wicked alpha ran even stronger than usual, with Prince Jared watching…

 

He just cared about impressing Alyonis. That was all. He would have behaved exactly the same if Prince Milo had accompanied him…

 

Would he ever get to meet Jared’s brother? Jensen rather wanted to know if they looked alike. Katherine’s assertion that he would be “ugly as sin” seemed unlikely, but Jensen still suspected that Jared had received more than his fair share of the family looks. Surely, they couldn’t _all_ look like that? Perhaps Prince Jared took after his mother’s mate.     

 

Jensen glanced at him as they approached Burnsley, chimneys smoking in the distance as twilight fell, but the omega still looked reassuringly southern. Jensen had worried that he’d need to explain to Prince Jared why red was an unsuitable colour to wear, but the prince had donned darker colours of his own accord. He’d frowned when Genevieve asked to veil him in a manner less foreign to the southerners, but he’d conceded after a quick glance at Captain Harris. Occasionally, Jensen overheard them murmuring to each other in their own language, but they always used the southern tongue whenever they knew anyone else was present. Jensen couldn’t deny that he felt more at ease knowing what they were discussing, but he was surprised to find that he liked the sound of Alyonis’ language. Val Deauvin had always characterized it as harsh and cruel, a barbaric tongue to suit a barbaric people, but Jensen found it oddly compelling, almost musical in its intonations.  

 

Perhaps he was just a southern aberration. He’d always liked sitting in on Misha and Erica’s lessons in the northern tongue, though he didn’t speak it with any fluency himself. Did Prince Jared speak the northern tongue at all?

_You can ask later,_ Jensen told himself, taking a deep breath. _For now… focus. Heyerdahl’s about to meet his match._

 

*

 

As the sun rose on their fifth day in Burnsley, Jared rolled over to one side, careful not to disturb Genevieve, who was sleeping soundly beside him. Accommodation was basic but at least they had a room to themselves. Prince Jensen had looked challengingly at Jared when they’d seen where they would be sleeping, clearly expecting Jared to complain and prove Jensen right for not wanting to bring him. Jared had taken great pleasure in smiling sunnily at him and thanking their hosts, an older alpha-and-beta couple with a beta child around Jared’s age. They’d stuck with the cover story they’d used at all the inns they stopped at, namely that Captain Harris was Jared’s mate and Genevieve was his sister. Prince Jensen and Prince Misha’s dubious expressions upon first hearing this had matched eerily well, but no one had questioned them.

 

Well, why would they? It was far more common for omegas to have beta siblings than for a family to have multiple omega children. Admittedly, Genevieve and Jared didn’t look _greatly_ alike, but she looked more like him than she did anyone else. The princes had claimed to be brothers on the journey (Jared had half-wondered if they’d claim to be mates, but he supposed that would draw too much attention, even in a progressive kingdom like Val Deauvin), but reverted to their normal titles after arriving in the village. For once, their party of five had been unanimous when it came to Jared’s identity. No one must know who he was. He found that he rather enjoyed being referred to by just his first name (even if one of Prince Jensen’s eyes twitched every time it happened), and though the villagers stared a little, obviously unused to outsiders, the bulk of their attention was taken up by the princes.

 

Jared couldn’t say he blamed them. He’d stared too when he first saw them. He hadn’t yet seen any of the southern temples – he wondered if any southerner ever looked at Jensen and thought him the reincarnation of their God. He wondered if the northerners, whose pantheon was more numerous, would look at Prince Misha and think him one of their gods in human flesh when he returned to them.

 

Banging at their door startled both Captain Harris, curled in a nest of blankets on the floor, and Genevieve awake.

 

“Are you awake yet?” an irritated voice called.

 

“Yes,” Jared called, resisting the urge to add, _We are now._

 

“Well, hurry up. The food won’t cook itself.”

 

“Let me speak to him,” Genevieve growled, in a voice so fierce that Jared might have mistaken her for an alpha if he didn’t know better. “I’ll soon sort him out.”

 

“We’re guests in his home,” Jared said, reaching for a jumper. The nights were warmer than they would be in Alyonis, but still cold enough that he had no desire to sleep scantily clad. It was just as well – Captain Harris had been mortified that they were expected to share a room, let alone a bed, and they’d compromised in the end with Genevieve and Jared taking the bed (she’d been reluctant too, but at least willing to agree that a beta and omega together was less inappropriate than an alpha and omega, though Jared suspected her mention of betas and omegas being able to marry were ringing in both their ears) and Captain Harris bundling blankets near the door to sleep on. It couldn’t have done her back any good, sleeping on a wooden floor, but the bed Genevieve had been offered was at the other end of the house, and Captain Harris refused to be that far away.  

 

Prince Jensen and Prince Misha were sharing too, though as they were housed with the head of the village elders, their bedroom was larger… and they had their own beds. They’d offered to swap, but there hadn’t been any reason for them to do so with the villagers still oblivious to who Jared was, and trying to work out who would sleep where and with whom had given Jared a headache, so in the end they’d all stayed where they were.

 

The bed he and Genevieve had was big, enough that Captain Harris could have fitted too, though she’d turned fiery-red when Jared quietly suggested it and refused to answer. If Prince Jensen and Prince Misha had been in this room with him instead, they probably would have all fitted, though it would have been a squeeze.

 

Jared had tried to picture it once, and then promptly banished it to the back of his mind, determined not to think about it again. The shame he felt at being every inch the knot-hungry omega Val Deauvin and Montisierre characterized his kind as was enough that he wasn’t at all tempted to take Genevieve up on her offer. He deserved to be punished… though he’d feel better if she and Captain Harris weren’t being punished alongside him.

 

“Yes, _guests_ ,” Captain Harris was saying, “not servants. It would be fine to want us to help out in exchange for putting a roof over our heads, but he wants you to do all the work.”

 

“And _only_ you,” Genevieve added. “I bet he wouldn’t use that tone if it was just Danneel and me in here.” She blushed, no doubt realising that she’d made them sound like a mated couple, and Jared hoped she’d assume he was embarrassed for the same reasons, and not because he was thinking about where he’d be if not with Captain Harris and Genevieve.

_Well, my resolution not to picture myself between the princes didn’t last very long, did it?_

 

Jared crouched down to look under the bed, hoping to give his face time to cool down. _Doing okay?_

_Of course. You worry too much. I’d tell you if I wanted something._

 

He couldn’t see any sign of Myrtle in her small wicker basket, and hearing her voice in his head was deeply reassuring. _What if you called to me and I didn’t respond? What would you do then?_

_Silly human. I’d look for you, of course. A dragon can always find their bonded._

 

Jared still didn’t know what that meant, but perhaps she wanted it that way. _Not hungry?_

_We’re like snakes, Jared. We can go months without food. I’ll eat once we’re back in the palace._

 

Jared shuddered and stood up. Alyonis had precisely one type of snake, a small and non-lethal one, whereas Val Deauvin had several of the large, deadly kind. He hadn’t seen any yet, and he rather hoped to continue that streak.

 

David, the beta Jared’s age that lived here and current thorn in his side, scowled when the three of them appeared in the kitchen. “You’re late. My parents have been up for hours.”

 

Jared rather doubted that, but he tried to look interested. “Has today’s patrol already left?”

 

David’s narrowed eyes shifted to Captain Harris, evidently wondering why she’d come at all when she’d yet to help search the forest. “Of course,” he snapped. “Now are you going to help me with this bread or not?”

 

They fell into line dutifully. Genevieve had worked in the palace kitchens for a while, she’d told Jared and Captain Harris in an undertone, but she’d been promoted to one of Princess Katherine’s maids a few years ago, and hadn’t touched food unless to eat it herself since. Jared rather hoped his filching a favourite companion might explain some of the beta princess’ hostility towards him, but Genevieve had apologetically explained that Princess Katherine had dozens of maids, and still didn’t seem to recognise Genevieve.

 

Still, Genevieve’s prior expertise made the task a little easier. David would never believe that Captain Harris had mated Jared for his cooking ability, but omegas were famously hopeless in that regard, so Jared didn’t think it would arouse too much suspicious. Just one more reason why betas were considered the superior partner.

 

They spent the rest of the day in the kitchen, as they had for the last few days. Most of Burnsley’s alphas, and even a few of the betas, had clamoured to join the princes as they combed the nearby forest for Heyerdahl and his crew, who’d stolen several of the village’s betas over the last three months, the most recent one in plain view of her horrified and helpless parents and siblings. Though no one wanted to speculate on what had happened to the betas, Burnsley still seemed to think that they were alive. Jared desperately hoped that was true. With so many villagers aiding the princes, it fell to those who remained to carry out the tasks left abandoned. Jared, Captain Harris, Genevieve and David were responsible for preparing dinner for the villagers away from their homes all day.

 

To Jared’s surprise, when the front door opened in the evening, it was Prince Jensen who stepped through, Prince Misha close behind him, and not David’s parents.

 

“Oh!” Jared said eagerly. “Have you –” One look at their defeated expressions was enough to silence him.

 

“We’re getting close,” Prince Jensen said, though even Jared could see that his smile was forced. “We found fresh tracks today, leading further into the forest, so we’re certain that they haven’t left. They’re just… very good at avoiding us.”

 

Jared’s heart ached for them, and, for a moment, he regretted his insistence on coming along. Prince Jensen, and Prince Misha too, had enough responsibilities without needing to worry about Jared as well. 

 

“Bread?” He offered feebly, gesturing to the loaves cooling on the kitchen table.

 

“Have _you_ been baking?” Prince Misha said, sounding amazed. They’d seen each other over dinner every night, but the princes had been surrounded by villagers every time, and Jared hadn’t wanted to interrupt. When Prince Jensen, without fail, had approached and asked Jared how he was doing at the end of each day, he’d smiled and claimed everything was fine. He had to resist the urge now to preen.

 

_See? Omegas CAN provide for their alphas. Uh, not that either of you are my alphas right now… or ever._

 

“Your Highness,” David interrupted. Jared had almost forgotten he was there. “My lord. _I’ve_ been baking, with… limited assistance.” He shot Jared a particularly cold look. Jared gazed at him serenely in return.

 

“Oh?” Captain Harris asked, voice full of concern. “I thought we were helping you. If there’s more we could be doing, you should have said –”

 

“I wasn’t referring to _you_.”

_Wow_ , Jared thought, biting down on his lower lip to keep from laughing. David was not subtle. He was willing to cut the beta some slack, though. Even without Heyerdahl hounding his home, David had been forced to open his doors to three strangers, and if he’d been raised with tales of omegas who dabbled in evil arts to entice unsuspecting alphas away from innocent betas… No wonder he was hostile.

 

Though Jared _had_ an alpha, or at least claimed to, and David didn’t seem to be mated. He didn’t need to worry about Jared luring away an alpha he had his eye on. They barely left this house as it was.

 

“Jared,” Prince Jensen said, eye twitching even more fiercely when it was him who had to refer to Jared without his title. “A word outside, please?”

 

“Of course.” He felt a flicker of apprehension. The prince wasn’t going to take David seriously, was he? Jared was working as hard as Captain Harris, and David had just said he didn’t have an issue with her.

 

“I’ll come too,” Prince Misha added quickly.

 

The look Prince Jensen gave him suggested he wasn’t exactly happy with that, but he didn’t object. Jared reached for the door to the back garden, heart pounding at the thought of being alone with them.

 

“Aren’t you going to go with him?” David asked, staring at Captain Harris.

 

A muscle in Captain Harris’s jaw ticked. “I trust my mate,” she said calmly. “As long as he stays where I can see him, I don’t see why he needs me breathing down his neck.”

 

Jared blinked at her gratefully. David scowled even harder but he didn’t say anything more.

 

“All right,” Prince Jensen said, as soon as they were far enough away that they could whisper without being overheard but still remain in sight of Captain Harris. “What’s going on? Why does he dislike you so much?”

 

“Why do you think?” Jared asked, folding his arms. As pleased as he was to see them both, he wasn’t prepared to explain basic beta-omega dynamics to two alphas who should already be aware of them. Not having omega relatives was no excuse. Furthermore, he resented what sounded like Prince Jensen siding with the beta. _Typical alpha._  

 

“Has he been like this the whole time?” Prince Misha asked.

 

That at least sounded a little less blame-the-omega. Jared relaxed. “It’s not so bad.” He looked between them. “What about you? Are you really getting close?”

 

“No,” Prince Jensen said, so quietly that Jared almost didn’t hear him. “Whatever this alpha is, he’s not a half-wit.”

 

“Why do you think he wants the betas?”

 

“They’re all young, attractive, fertile…” Prince Misha’s voice was hushed too. “We think he intends to sell them as mates to the highest bidder… or perhaps to a brothel instead.”

 

Jared inhaled sharply. He’d feared a non-consensual sexual element to this story, but somehow he’d thought Heyerdahl might let the betas go after he’d hurt them. To hear the alpha planned to continue their torment…

 

“I’m the half-wit,” Prince Jensen said irritably. “I should have entered the forest in disguise. He knows our faces now – I swear we were being watched, even though we couldn’t find anyone. He’ll lead us on a merry chase just as he did to the soldiers, and we’ll be no closer to finding the betas in a month’s time from now.”

 

“None of us thought of going in disguise,” Prince Misha murmured. “Don’t blame yourself.”

 

The tension in Prince Jensen’s face didn’t lessen in the slightest. He suddenly reminded Jared sharply of Milo, which perhaps explained his next words:

 

“He doesn’t know my face.”

 

Wanting to comfort Milo, and in this case someone that reminded him of Milo, came as naturally to Jared was breathing. Once he’d spoken, though, he wondered why the idea hadn’t occurred to him sooner.

 

The princes both stared at him. Neither looked particularly impressed with Jared’s brilliance.

 

“Absolutely not,” Jensen snapped. “You’re not leaving this property.”

 

“Are you going to chain me to the bed?” Jared demanded, though he instantly wished he hadn’t.

 

“If that’s what it takes,” Prince Misha said, after a long pause. He sounded just as stern as the southern prince, and the faint moonlight made his eyes appear all pupil. Jared refused to acknowledge the tiny thrill that shot through him.

 

“Think about it,” he said, reverting to the tone he’d used when first trying to convince them both to take him here. “I can go into the forest, alone. I haven’t seen any other omegas here – the prospect of seizing one might override their fear of falling into a trap. Once Heyerdahl has me, Myrtle can lead you to wherever I am… which might even be where the betas are.”

 

It was possible that Heyerdahl had already sold them, but Jared didn’t want to think too deeply about that. At least if they found the alpha, he or one of his crew might be willing to disclose their location… with a bit of pressure.

 

“ _No_ ,” Prince Jensen said. “We’ll stick with my method.”

 

“You just said doing that for a month wouldn’t get you anywhere!”

 

“Jared,” Prince Jensen began heatedly, and then winced. “Sorry, I meant –”

 

“You can call me Jared. I don’t mind.”

 

“It wouldn’t be… appropriate.” Jared wondered what words Prince Jensen had mentally rejected in that pause. “Look,” the alpha continued, voice softening, “I appreciate your bravery, I really do –”

 

“It isn’t brave. It’s just the right thing to do.”

 

“It’s the exact opposite. There’s no way I’m risking your life on a plan that has so many ways of going wrong.”

 

“So my life’s worth more than the lives of the missing betas?”   

 

Jared had thought that would work, but Prince Jensen merely clenched his jaw and stared back. _It isn’t fair, but that’s the way the world works,_ his eyes seemed to say.

 

“We’ll find them, okay?” Prince Misha said softly. “In the meantime, we need you to stay here. If Heyerdahl got his hands on an omega… he might abandon this part of Val Deauvin entirely, and we’d never find the betas. You can see that, can’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Jared said reluctantly. He resented the older-brother edge to Prince Misha’s tone… and he resented that it made him want to obey.

 

“The offer’s still there to swap rooms with us,” Prince Jensen said. “I’m sure you and Genevieve could both fit in one of the beds,” he sounded strange then, but his next words were said in his normal tone, so Jared assumed he’d misheard, “and Captain Harris could have the other.”

 

“My bed’s nearest the window,” Prince Misha said. “I think it’s comfier.”

 

“Mine’s nearest the door, and it’s wider,” Prince Jensen said quickly.

 

Jared looked between them, baffled. Why were they talking about their beds? “Thank you,” he said hesitantly, “but we’ll stay where we are.”

 

Did the two of them just want a double bed? Couldn’t they push the two beds they had together and create a very similar effect without everyone knowing?

 

“Do you want me to speak to that beta?” Prince Jensen was asking. He sounded almost as protective as Genevieve, but he didn’t even know David’s name, so it was a mystery why the beta’s behaviour would inspire the same reaction in an alpha that had never had to suffer because of it.

 

“That would be a job for Captain Harris, not for you.”

 

“I’m their prince!”

 

“She’s my mate,” Jared said, trying not to laugh. “You should go and eat,” he said, as much as he hated having to end this moment. “You must be hungry, and you have another long day ahead of you.”

 

They both eyed him for several seconds before acquiescing. Jared couldn’t help feeling proud of himself for managing to resist falling completely under their spell. He wouldn’t claim that he hadn’t noticed their looks at all, but it was still progress for him.

 

Other villagers were eager to speak to them over dinner, making it easy for Jared to avoid the princes, though they joined him in washing the dishes afterwards. David insisted it was beneath them to do such menial work, and Jared thought they should go to sleep instead, but both Prince Jensen and Prince Misha refused to leave. Jared stood between them, buried up to his elbows in soapy water, and occasionally their arms would brush against his. They both apologised every time, but neither moved far enough away to prevent it from happening again. When Jared returned to the bedroom, he felt like he was floating.

 

 _You’re going to go anyway, aren’t you?_ Myrtle asked, just as his eyes were closing. She sounded resigned.

_Of course._


	6. Chapter 6

“Well, well, well,” Heyerdahl murmured, the tip of his knife poised just below Jared’s left eye, though not digging in… not yet. “Aren’t you a pretty one?”

 

Jared was willing to concede that it hadn’t been his _best_ plan. It had started off well, if he said so himself. Everyone had been so exhausted that it was easy for Jared to sneak away in the dead of the night. Following the forest trail in the darkness had been harder, and Jared kept imagining that he could hear hissing from snakes following him, but the sun had risen eventually. He’d been seized what felt like seconds after that. Although he’d spent the journey there reminding himself not to fight too hard, he needn’t have bothered. The alphas surrounded him so quickly and stealthily that he hadn’t even had a chance.

 

This, Jared thought ruefully, was why he could never be First Omega. He was far too impulsive to be allowed anywhere near the throne. He’d never used that word to describe himself before, but perhaps having Milo by his side had curtailed the worst of it. Without his other half, Jared was spiralling.

 

He’d found the betas, though. One, two, three, four, five, six… all of them crouched in nearby cages, faces thin and clothing ragged, but at least still alive.

 

The temptation to use his forsworn power was almost unbearable, but Jared resisted the urge, at least for now. Even if it worked on Heyerdahl, and he wasn’t sure that it would, his accomplices were hardly likely to stand by patiently as Jared attempted to use it on each of them.   

 

 _Hurry, Myrtle,_ he thought, even though it wasn’t fair to pressure her like that.

 

Her response was immediate. _We’re coming as fast as we can. Hold on._

 

Heyerdahl’s knife scraped across Jared’s cheek, and Jared cried out with pain.

 

“I asked you a question, slut. Tell me… how many knots have you taken? The brothel I’m thinkin’ of for you will pay more if it’s less than ten… but they’ll be reluctant to take an omega who’s had less than five.”

 

Behind Heyerdahl, the four members of his crew smirked.

 

Jared’s hands, wrenched behind his back with rope already slick with his blood, curled shakily into fists. If it was his only chance to escape… these alphas didn’t deserve mercy.

*

 

When Jensen got his hands on Prince Jared, he was going to _throttle_ him.

 

He wasn’t, of course, but it was soothing to think about as they raced through the forest. Mostly, though, Jensen just wanted to throttle himself. He should have realised the prince had given in too easily when Jensen had refused to go along with his plan. Prince Jared’s kindness towards people who would never have made the same sacrifice for him, even without knowing he was from hated Alyonis, had impressed Jensen so much that it had made him foolish. Again.

 

At least, he comforted himself, this time had been down to Prince Jared’s character and not his appearance. Surely that made it a little less pathetic?

 

A sharp pain in Jensen’s right shoulder made him veer to the right, the alphas with him – the strongest, fastest ones that Burnsley could muster, along with Captain Harris – following suit. When Captain Harris had ran outside just after dawn, as the patrol was about to set off, her face the colour of milk, Jensen had instantly grasped what had happened. He and Misha had exchanged one quick, agonised glance, and then sprinted to the prince’s bedroom. His dragon, pacing restlessly along the bed, had shot into the air when they burst in, and made a series of quick chirps. Whatever magic Alyonis used to communicate with the creatures had been unnecessary in that moment. Jensen understood what she wanted.

 

Figuring out how to bring her with them had cost precious seconds. Jensen didn’t particularly care how the villagers reacted, not when Prince Jared’s life was at stake, but the chance that Heyerdahl or one of his companions might shoot the dragon down was too great. Eventually, Jensen had borrowed a coat from one of the village elders, and leaving it unbuttoned made it baggy enough for the dragon to cling to his back, tiny claws digging into his shoulders. It wasn’t completely convincing, especially when he stood still, but it would have to do. She’d made a noise like a growl when he suggested how she should express directions to him, making him worry she didn’t know what he needed, or perhaps couldn’t carry it out, but it had evidently been her way of agreeing.

 

He turned left where she indicated, only half aware of his surroundings. He found himself praying to a God and Goddess that he’d long given up on.

_Please, if you’re out there… let him be okay. If anything happens… Punish me however you want for my mistakes, but please… let him be okay._

 

Pain bloomed again in his right shoulder. He turned right.

*

 

When they plunged through what looked like solid rock behind a small waterfall and emerged blinking into a small clearing, Misha wasn’t sure who was more stunned – them or Heyerdahl and his crew. 

 

Misha’s gaze found Prince Jared immediately. Apart from a long but shallow cut beneath one eye, which dribbled blood, and ropes lashed tightly around his arms and legs, the omega looked unharmed. Far from feeling reassured, though, Misha suddenly thirsted to draw blood of his own.

_How dare you touch him?_ he seethed. _How dare you think you can hurt him and live?_

 

For a moment, they all just stared at one another. The alpha closed to Prince Jared, his knife stained with red, smiled slowly.

 

“I was wonderin’ when you folks would find us,” he drawled. “Gotta admit, I thought it would take you a little longer. You surprised me.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like surprises.”

 

The clearing exploded into movement then. Misha narrowly avoided the sword swung by the alpha closest to him, but the Burnsley alpha beside him wasn’t so lucky, screaming out in agony when the sword sliced into her arm. Misha struck out with his own sword, heart pounding. When he’d pictured this, he’d thought they would subdue Heyerdahl and his crew, and take them back to Burnsley to face trial. Now, though… Misha didn’t particularly care about allowing the villagers their revenge. His own mattered more to him.

 

*

 

When his rescuers had suddenly appeared, Prince Jensen leading the charge with Prince Misha at his heels, Jared almost sank to the forest floor in relief. He’d known they would come, but he hadn’t been sure it would be in time. He should have realised that they wouldn’t fail him. Even his half-baked plan hadn’t been enough to hinder them. How many alphas in the three kingdoms could have had the same success?

 

It wasn’t over yet, though. Jared tugged hard at his bindings, falling to the ground and then scrabbling back as the two groups clashed. He caught sight of Captain Harris, sword flashing, and felt a spurt of worry for dragging her into this too. Heyerdahl and his followers were the better fighters, but the alphas from Burnsley outnumbered them almost two-to-one, and, gradually, that proved decisive.

 

Jared saw the moment that realisation dawned on Heyerdahl. Without a second’s hesitation, the fiend turned and fled, easily mowing down the young alpha that tried to stop him.

 

Jared snarled, but Captain Harris was duelling with one of the alphas who’d yet to realise his leader had abandoned them. Suddenly, Prince Misha was crouched in front of him, sawing through his ropes.

 

“Are you all right?” the northern prince demanded. “They didn’t –”

 

“He’s getting away,” Jared snapped, staggering to his feet. “We have to –”

 

“You need to stay _right where you are_ –”

 

Jared pushed past him and ran after Heyerdahl. He hadn’t obeyed the first time the princes had tried that – they needn’t think he’d matured enough that a second attempt would be more successful. Behind him, he heard Misha curse in the northern tongue.

 

Though his legs were stiff, they were also long. Unfortunately, so were Heyerdahl’s. He’d been able to look Jared in the eye when they stood side-by-side, but he wasn’t trying to cover his tracks now. Jared followed until the footprints abruptly ended.

 

Jared froze in place, listening intently, scanning his surroundings. Even the wind was silent, and the trees here were so wide that Heyerdahl could easily hide behind one. Jared wished that he’d stopped to pick up a weapon. He’d left his dagger back in David’s home, unwilling to risk losing it if his kidnappers searched him, only they hadn’t bothered. Omegas were rarely viewed as physical threats.

 

Besides… what Jared carried inside of him could defeat any weapon, and now he and Heyerdahl were alone.

 

A branch creaked. Jared looked up wildly. He just needed to make eye contact –

_“Jared!”_

 

He only had a second to realise it was Prince Misha’s voice before the alpha ploughed into him, sending them both crashing to the ground. A tiny part of Jared relished having the alpha’s weight on top of them, but Misha rolled them over before Jared had a chance to fully enjoy it… and an arrow struck the ground where Jared’s head had just been.  

 

Prince Misha hauled him to his feet, dragging them to the nearest tree.

 

“Keep your back against the bark,” he hissed in Jared’s ear, eyes combing the branches above.

 

“You came after me,” Jared said, too surprised to do anything but speak his mind.  

 

“What?” Prince Misha didn’t look at him. “Of course I did.” His gaze sharpened. “Jensen, _down_!”

 

The green-eyed alpha rounded the corner and hit the ground. “Crossbow?” he growled, looking up as well.

 

“I think so.” Prince Misha still hadn’t let go of Jared’s arm. The warmth of him was seeping through Jared’s shirt.

 

Jensen darted forward, and then flung himself to one side, inching towards them in increasingly erratic movements. “Where did you last see him?”

 

“The branch above you. I don’t know where he went next.”

 

“Can’t have been far.” Prince Jensen raised his voice. “Heyerdahl, we know you’re listening. It’s over. Your people are dead or dying.” Jared glanced at him sharply, wondering if that was true… and if it also applied to the alphas from Burnsley. “Surrender, and I promise you a fair trial.”

 

There came a low, wheezing sound. It took Jared a moment to identify it as laughter.

 

Prince Jensen’s jaw clenched. “I was hoping you’d refuse.”

 

Finally, Jared’s gaze locked onto the alpha above them, his new position protected by the glare of the sun. His outline was fuzzy, but Jared could still make out the two crossbows in his hands… and where he was pointing them.

_“Stop!”_

 

Heyerdahl’s grip loosened. The weapons hit the ground first. Their owner, swaying in place, followed soon after.

 

The sound of bones breaking rang in Jared’s head for hours afterwards.

 

*

 

“They’re all going to recover.”

 

Jared breathed out shakily. “Even the young one? The one who tried to stop Heyerdahl from escaping?”

 

“I said all, didn’t I?” Prince Jensen’s face was still smeared with blood and dirt, but he was beaming from ear to ear. “Even Heyerdahl will live to stand trial… though that fall might have proven a more merciful death than the one he’ll get.”

 

“Will his trial take place here, or in the capital?”

 

“Here. Burnsley have earned that right, I think.” Prince Jensen grimaced. “Plus the logistics of bringing him back with us are too complicated. We couldn’t take our eyes off him for even a second. I’ll ask for his head to be sent to us once they’re finished with him. That should make my fathers happy enough.”

 

Jared fought hard to contain his grimace. He’d forgotten Val Deauvin’s predilection for displaying the heads of their enemies on the walls surrounding the capital. It was hard to reconcile that behaviour with Parliament so close by. 

 

Reaching for his soup, Jared noticed that Prince Jensen was staring at him. “What?”

 

“What?” Prince Jensen repeated, eyes narrowing. They were seated in David’s back garden, with Captain Harris watching from the window. The look she’d given Jared when they reunited told him that they’d discuss it later, and he winced but nodded. Genevieve, however, had run to him and flung her arms around him. She’d apologised instantly, of course, retreating several steps away, but Jared hadn’t been offended. Even without anyone else around, she’d still acted for a moment like she really was his sister.

 

Myrtle had returned to her box beneath the bed, with no one any the wiser about her existence, though not before Jared had kissed her nose repeatedly. She’d objected to this treatment, complaining about _disgusting human germs_ … but she hadn’t wriggled out of his arms.

 

The villagers had been delighted to have their betas back, hailing Prince Jensen as a hero, and including Prince Misha in their praise when they realised it would please Prince Jensen. When the southern prince had turned to Jared, though, mouth opening, Jared had quickly added, “I’m so thankful to have been rescued. When Heyerdahl seized me, I feared for my future, but I should have kept faith. Prince Jensen defeated him without any difficulty.”

 

Prince Jensen had frowned, but after a long moment, he’d reluctantly nodded. Jared had allowed the village doctor to clean and examine his wounds, but he’d slipped away after that while the celebrations were still on-going, wanting to be alone.

 

If he’d commanded Heyerdahl to die instead of to stop… what would have happened? Did Jared possess that kind of power? He’d started to shake, and found that he couldn’t stop.

 

Prince Jensen, bowl of soup in hand, had found him like that. After waiting for permission to sit down, he’d pushed the bowl in Jared’s direction. Just wrapping his hands around it had been enough to drive out the chill from his bones. It was only when he’d heard that the Burnsley alphas had all survived that he realised how hungry he was.

 

“What?” Prince Jensen said again, shaking his head. “Don’t you have anything to say to me in regards to your _plan_?”

 

Jared took a slurp of the soup. It tasted better than he expected. He wondered if David had made it. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

 

Prince Jensen snorted. “It would have been more than my life is worth if I hadn’t. Anything else?”

 

“You followed it brilliantly. I’m so glad that my instructions made sense.”

_“Jared,”_ Prince Jensen gritted out, before reddening. “I’m sorry, I meant –”

 

“I think you’ve earned the right to call me by my name, don’t you? I might even apologise if you do.”

 

Prince Jensen’s lips twitched. “So you do think that you owe me an apology.”

 

“Of course I do,” Jared said, serious now. “I’m truly sorry. I thought it was the right thing to do, but if anyone had been fatally injured, especially you or Prince Misha… it would have been all my fault. I should have listened to you.”

 

“Thank you,” Prince Jensen said quietly. He swallowed. “And now it’s my turn to apologise.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I should have listened to _you_. Your plan worked, even if there were a few moments I could have done without. If we’d talked it over together, we could have come up with something even better. I’m sorry for dismissing you. And I haven’t forgotten that you saved my life.” He smiled fully. “That war cry sounded terrifying, by the way. You’ll need to teach me it. I’m not surprised that Heyerdahl crumbled.”

 

“I didn’t save your life,” Jared managed to reply, blood pounding in his ears. He hadn’t realised until then that he’d cried out in his own language. While that had at least allowed Prince Jensen to concoct a more plausible story than what had truly occurred, Jared’s anxiety only worsened. He doubted Heyerdahl had understood what he said, and yet… “You wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me being an idiot – again. If you and Prince Misha hadn’t come after me…”

 

“Then the betas would still be imprisoned,” Prince Misha said, emerging from the back door. His face fell. “Oh. I thought you might be hungry, but…” He was carrying a bowl of soup too.

 

“I’m always hungry,” Jared said, even though he felt pleasantly full right then. “I didn’t get breakfast, you know.”

 

“And whose fault is that?” Prince Misha asked, but he placed the bowl down in front of him all the same.

 

Jared reached for his spoon. “Mine,” he admitted freely. “I put you both in danger, not to mention the alphas that came with you, and I’m sorry.” He swallowed down another mouthful of soup, and it only then occurred to him that it could have been poisoned.

 

“What?” Prince Misha asked, noticing his expression. “Is it too cold?”

 

“No, it’s fine, I…” he hesitated. They’d saved him, twice, but that didn’t mean he could trust them, at least not fully. Not yet. “I just wouldn’t normally eat anything a southerner or northerner gave me without making them try it first.”

 

Prince Jensen blinked, and then frowned. “We didn’t tamper with it. Here, I’ll prove it –”

 

“You don’t need to.” Jared’s stomach was beginning to protest, but he ruthlessly ignored it, swallowing some more. He tried for a smile. “It seems a waste of your time to come after me, twice, and then try to poison me a few hours later.”   

 

Prince Misha’s eyes gleamed. “Perhaps it’s our way of punishing you.”

 

“Perhaps.” Jared had the sudden, vivid image of draped himself over their laps, naked bottom turning red as they punished him in a far more typical way for an omega, and had to suppress a whimper. He would have clawed Justin’s eyes out before submitting to that, but with these alphas… “I would deserve it,” he said meekly, glancing up at them from under his eyelashes.

 

They both stared, and it brought Jared back to his senses. Even if he wanted that, there was no reason either of them would. “Thank you for rescuing me,” he said instead, voice soft.

 

“We wouldn’t have left you, and Mish is right.” Jared took envious note of the affectionate nickname. He wanted someone to say the diminutive version of his name like that – someone who wasn’t Justin, at least. “Without you, the betas wouldn’t be home right now.”

 

“You could have saved them without me,” Jared said firmly.   

 

“We couldn’t have saved them today without you,” Prince Misha said. “And Heyerdahl might have escaped.”

 

“You know,” Jared said lightly, desperate to avoid any mention of that alpha, “today also included both of you calling me by my name and not my title.”

 

“I…” Prince Misha opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “I didn’t mean –”

 

“If you call me by my name all the time, perhaps I won’t feel the need to pull a stunt like that again.” Jared swallowed his final mouthful of soup, stomach aching. It was worth it for the flicker of pleasure that crossed Prince Misha’s face. “No promises, though.”

 

“Which stunt?” Prince Misha demanded, grinning. “The one where you ran off to get yourself kidnapped after Jensen told you not to, or the one where you ran off to get yourself killed after I told you not to?”

 

Jared tapped his finger against his chin thoughtfully. “Both? I’ll go with both.” He couldn’t help shuddering though, as he thought of all the near-misses he’d had. If they hadn’t found him so quickly… if Heyerdahl had raped him… if that crossbow had reached its target… if his power hadn’t worked…

 

“Jared,” Prince Jensen said softly, deliberately, “if you do something like this again… I’m going to be really angry when I catch up to you.”

 

“Jensen,” Jared said, matching his tone, “if I do something like this again, I’ll want you to do more than just be _really angry_.”

 

“Well, I’ll be furious,” Prince Misha said. He paused. “Jared.”

 

“Misha,” Jared said, biting down on his bottom lip, though his smile grew regardless. “I still think I’ll need a bit more than just _furious.”_

 

He was skirting too close to that edge again. He needed to stop.

 

“When we return to the capital,” he said hesitantly, “could you maybe… leave out a few details when you tell you families what happened?”

 

Jensen narrowed his eyes. “What kind of details?”

 

“Like… me being anywhere Heyerdahl, for instance.”

 

“That’s sort of crucial to the narrative, don’t you think?” Misha said.

 

“Not really. You two searched for the alpha, you found him, you defeated him, you rescued the betas, and we all left happy. It’s basically what happened.”

 

“I don’t think anyone would be angry with you,” Jensen said. “At least not in my family. They’d all think you were courageous.”

 

“So would Erica,” Misha said quickly. 

 

Jared had a hard time picturing Princess Katherine or King-Consort Gilbert thinking of him as _courageous_ , but it seemed churlish to say so. “I’d still be happier if my name was mostly left out of the retelling.” 

 

“But… that isn’t fair,” Jensen said softly. “You did more than just being rescued. You deserve credit too.”

 

How strange. Jared would never have believed a southerner, who were all renowned for being braggarts, could say those words to him. Perhaps Val Deauvin had been unfairly stereotyped… or perhaps Jensen was just exceptional. 

 

“Burnsley should know they have an omega to thank,” Misha said, though he kept his voice low enough that even Jared could barely hear him.

 

“They have alphas to thank,” he corrected firmly, “their own, their prince, and two foreign ones. That’s what I want.”

 

“If you’re sure,” Jensen said, after a painfully long pause. “I don’t like lying, but if it’s what you want…”

 

Jared ignored his pulse of guilt. “Thank you.” 

 

Misha’s lips quirked. “I suppose it isn’t the first time we’ve lied about you,” he said, and that looked as if he wished he hadn’t.

 

Jared straightened up, gazing between them in interest. “Oh? What – that night on the beach, right?” He blushed, and hoped that it was too dark for them to notice. “What did you lie about?”

 

Misha shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I told Jensen’s parents that I hadn’t really recognised you, that it was a mistake.”

 

Interesting. Genevieve had told the truth, then. “Just the kings?” he asked, cottoning on to the initial key phrase.

 

Jensen huffed out a laugh. “Misha couldn’t lie to Erica if his life depended on it.”

 

“That isn’t true! I’ll prove it when we get back – I won’t tell her what happened here.”

 

“Want to bet?” Jensen’s eyes were glittering.  

 

“Why don’t you tell Jared what _you_ lied about?”

 

That wiped the smile from Jensen’s face. “You, uh, you saw me, right? On the beach?”

 

Jared blushed even harder. “Yes. I didn’t mean to…”

 

“What were you doing there?” Misha asked. His expression gave nothing away, but he spoke too quickly to appear just mildly curious.

 

Jared really was creating a long list of indiscretions on this trip, he thought uncomfortably, and vowed silently to try to make this the last one. “We’d anchored for the night – we were making better time than we expected, and one of my guards felt seasick, so we were all glad of the break. I woke up in the middle of the night, and the beach was just ablaze with light… I-I couldn’t stay away.”

 

“And then you ran into us,” Jensen commented.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“That makes sense,” Misha said lightly. Jared couldn’t understand why he was smiling so widely.

 

“What were you two doing there?” He’d offered up his own explanation, so it seemed sensible to seize the opportunity to try to get some information in return, but Jared found that he truly wanted to know.

 

“The port had been having some problems with pirates,” Jensen said, “so we –”

_“Pirates?”_

 

“You know,” Misha said. He thought for a moment, and then repeated the word proudly in the northern tongue.

 

Jared shook his head. “No, I know what it means, I just –”

 

“So you speak the northern tongue?” Jensen asked. It only half sounded like a question, though.

 

“A little.” Jared glanced apologetically at Misha, before wondering how appropriate that was. “I’m better with the southern tongue, though.”

 

Misha shrugged. “Most people are.”

 

Jared wondered if he included himself in that. How many opportunities did he and his sister have to practice their own language?

 

“Pirates?” he repeated again. “The harbourmaster never mentioned that.”

 

“Well, he wouldn’t, would he?” Jensen said, amused. “He wouldn’t have wanted to look weak in front of Alyonis – besides, we’d dealt with it by then.”

 

Jared shuddered, grateful that they had. He looked up at Jensen from under his eyelashes, wondering if he’d asked all the questions he was allowed.

 

Jensen cleared his throat. “The omega you saw me with,” he began awkwardly, “I… I’d be grateful if you didn’t mention it to my family.”

 

“It had never occurred to me to do so,” Jared said. “They, uh, don’t know about him, then?”

 

Jensen laughed, though there was no warmth in it. “No, they know. They just… don’t approve.”

 

“Because he’s an omega?” Jared frowned.

 

“That’s part of it, but they’d object if he was a beta too. That night… it was our last night together. We both know it won’t ever happen. But if my family knew I’d gone back to see him when they’d told me not to…”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jared said. “I won’t tell them.”  

 

Jensen exhaled. “Thank you.”

 

Misha, Jared couldn’t help noticing, seemed oddly comfortable with this discussion for someone who might have romantic feelings for Jensen, and for someone whose sister might one day marry Jensen. Could Misha and Princess Katherine still be the desired match? Or was Misha accepting because Jensen had put his omega aside, intending to be faithful to Princess Erica when they mated? Or perhaps Misha and Jensen _were_ romantically involved, and Misha was happy that Jensen had given up on the omega.

 

If Jensen’s parents would have objected to that omega even if he was a beta… what chance did Jensen and Misha have of being able to marry one another?

 

As close as he suddenly felt to them both, there was no way he could ask. Still, this was more information than he’d ever dreamed of getting from them.  

 

“There was something else I wanted to ask,” Misha said uncertainly.

 

“Oh?” Depending on what it was, perhaps Jared could ask one of his questions in return.

 

“When Heyerdahl had you on your own…”

 

Jared looked away. “What about it?”

 

“Did he… say anything?” Jensen spoke that time. “Do anything?”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

“Of course,” Misha said fiercely. “He can stand trial without needing his hands.”

 

Jared blinked, puzzled, and then grasped his meaning. “You can’t cut off his hands!”

 

“Who’s going to stop me?”

 

Jared gazed pointedly at Jensen. The alpha shrugged. “I can’t keep my eye on Misha all the time. Even the gods would find that a struggle.”

 

“I… you…” Jared shook his head. That offer definitely shouldn’t feel like a balm to his aching soul. “You don’t need to cut his hands off,” he said finally. “I think his broken bones are revenge enough.”  

 

Misha studied him thoughtfully, and Jared’s heart beat like a caged bird. Surely the northerner hadn’t guessed…?

 

“If you say so,” Misha said. “But my offer still stands.”

 

“Thank you, but he didn’t… he didn’t do anything.”

 

“The cut on your face would disagree,” Jensen noted.

 

“I’ve had worse.” Had inflicted worse on himself, in fact, but Jared didn’t say that. “I think he just wanted to scare me.”

 

“And did he?” Misha asked softly.

 

“We fear nothing in Alyonis,” Jared said, smiling. “Except maybe Val Deauvin snakes.”

 

“Snakes?” Jensen wrinkled his nose. “It’s the wrong season for them here, so you’re quite safe.”

 

“I thought I could hear them hissing last night.”  Jared couldn’t help casting a suspicious glance around them. “You’re sure that they won’t chase me at this time of year?”

 

“I doubt it. The snakes are probably so cold that they couldn’t move even if you’d stepped on them,” Jensen said, amused.

 

“And I’m not sure how often snakes _chase_ their prey,” Misha said, lips twitching.

 

Jared scowled at them both. “Maybe that’s just what the snakes want you to think!”

 

The sound of their laughter warmed him even more than their bowls of soup had.

 

“Don’t worry,” Jensen said. “If any snakes appear, I’ll protect you.”

 

“I’m sure the snakes have evolved to like southerners best,” Misha said. “We can throw Jensen to them and make a run for it.”

 

Jensen’s eyes narrowed. “Then a northerner will be a tasty treat. I’ll trip you, and Jared and I can escape.”

 

“Why wouldn’t they want me, then?” Jared said, smiling in spite of himself. “I bet they’ve never had someone from Alyonis.”

 

“And they never will.” Jensen spoke lightly, but his eyes blazed.

 

Jared was utterly silenced in the face of such a declaration. He looked down at the table, heart pounding.

_They’re alphas and they’re not from Alyonis. What happened today shouldn’t change the fact that I should trust them as far as I can throw them. I need to be on my guard, with internal walls that would dwarf the ones surrounding Val Deauvin’s capital._

 

It still felt like his defences would crumble with just one touch from either of them, though.

 

*

 

“I’m starting to think that Bledel wasn’t entirely to blame,” Captain Harris said mildly.

 

Jared winced. “She wasn’t to blame at all,” he said, even though he hated the idea that Captain Harris’s hostility towards Lieutenant Bledel would lessen as a result of this. “Neither were you. It was my fault entirely, in both situations. I’m sorry.”

 

Captain Harris sighed. “In this instance, at least, you had good intentions. I just don’t understand why you didn’t talk to me. I could have helped.”

 

“I was afraid you might try to stop me… and I also thought that Heyerdahl was bound to have a spying network. If you’d come with me, even if you’d remained out of sight… I didn’t think that the plan would work if I confided in anyone.”  

 

“You confided in the princes.”

 

“You have to admit that they were rather crucial to the plan’s success.”

 

Captain Harris shook her head, but she was smiling slightly. “Every time I think that I understand you…”

 

“Don’t worry. You’re not the first alpha to be baffled by an omega,” he teased.

 

Her smile faded, but the warmth in her eyes didn’t. “You’re not just an omega. I know that’s what everyone here sees when they look at you, but you’re more than that. I want you to remember that.”

 

Jared squirmed, uncomfortable with the intensity in her voice. “I’ll be glad to get away from _him_.” They were speaking in their own language, but there was no need to make it easy for eavesdroppers by actually saying David’s name.

 

“Why do you think he dislikes you so much?”

 

Jared stared. “Not you as well!” He almost referred to Jensen without his title, and managed to stop himself just in time. It was surely a sign of progress, but he was suddenly worried that Captain Harris might not see it that way. “Prince Jensen asked too.”

 

Captain Harris rolled her eyes. “ _I_ know why he didn’t like you, though I can’t speak for the prince. I want to know why _you_ think he didn’t like you.”

 

Jared shrugged. “Betas and omegas have disliked each other for centuries, maybe even since the dawn of time.”

 

“Genevieve doesn’t dislike you. Princess Erica doesn’t seem to dislike you.”

 

Jared bit down on his bottom lip to try to keep himself from laughing at the fact that she hadn’t tried to mention Princess Katherine or King-Consort Gilbert… or even Jared’s own father. “I’m not saying that _all_ betas and omegas hate each other, just that it’s not unusual when it happens. Somewhere like this, where there aren’t any omegas…” His cheeks felt hot. “They probably think of us all as knot-hungry sluts, desperate to entice away their alphas… even when I have one of my own.”

 

“I don’t think it was our… ‘relationship’ that our host was jealous of.”

 

“Maybe he thought that I was a threat to his relationship with one of the local alphas? I mean, I never actually saw him look at anyone with romantic intent, but I’m sure a whore like me would have worked my way through the village and got to his intended eventually.”

 

Captain Harris winced. “Don’t. I want to rip the throat out of anyone who speaks about you like that, and I can hardly do it to you, can I?”

 

Jared snorted. “My mother might object.”

 

“Just…” Captain Harris rose to her feet. “Just think about who’s been particularly attentive to you recently, and why that might have annoyed a southern beta in a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom that will likely never get to travel to the capital.”

 

Jared’s forehead wrinkled. What an odd statement. Genevieve had been attentive, though he thought _particularly_ attentive was unfair – Genevieve had looked after him just as well when they were in the palace. Why would David have been jealous of that? Did he not have any close beta friends? Jared doubted that it was friendship with an omega that he desired.

 

He shrugged to himself. He had bigger topics to worry about… like the way the villagers had cheered Jensen’s name. Of course, he more than deserved it, having brought home their missing betas, but the sheer adoration emanating from the crowd…

 

Had the people who’d been terrorised by pirates cheered just as loudly? What about everyone else that Jensen (and Misha) had aided? Jensen was second-in-line, young and strong and handsome and good-hearted… Princess Alaina was at least the first three as well, and perhaps the last one too, but it wasn’t her name being carried to the skies… 

 

If Jensen took the Val Deauvin crown, a staggering creation of gold and jewels that probably could have paid for food for the people of Burnsley until the end of time, instead of his older sister… In Jared’s kingdom, only death could pave the way for a lesser heir to inherit, but perhaps Val Deauvin was different.

 

If Jensen took the Val Deauvin crown, he would make a more than fine match for Adrianne. If she married Jensen, it wouldn’t matter if Misha still married Princess Katherine. Alyonis would have their alliance.

 

Jared had to figure out a way to make that happen, and he had to ignore the way his stomach clenched at the thought. It was probably just all the soup.

 

*

 

“I knew you’d handle it! Didn’t I saw that Jensen would handle it?” King Mitchell stared challengingly at his husband.

 

In spite of himself, Jared felt sorry for the beta. Being humiliated by his mate had to be hard enough without it happening in front of a foreign omega. “Your son was very brave,” he said, keeping his voice soft and admiring.

 

King Mitchell swelled up like a bullfrog. “He gets that from me.”

 

Jared caught Jensen’s gaze across the dinner table, and the alpha gave him a tiny eyeroll. Jared quickly looked down at his plate, schooling his features so that his amusement didn’t show.

 

What did King Mitchell know about bravery? Jared couldn’t bring himself to be truly offended, though. The king’s family hadn’t faced a massacre in recent years, and he hadn’t had to fight tooth and nail to seize the crown, as Jared’s mother had done. Jensen’s bravery seemed far more likely to come from King-Consort Gilbert. Marrying an alpha this obnoxious and giving him three children took courage.

 

“I’m glad it was so successful,” Princess Katherine said sweetly. “We take protecting betas very seriously here.”

 

“Alyonis shares that noble intent, of course,” Jared couldn’t resist saying. “I was glad to see Val Deauvin principles in action.”

 

How dare she try to condescend to him, given how Val Deauvin – and Montisierre, for that matter – had historically treated omegas? Jeff might have been the first one to hold the title of First Beta, even if in practice he tended to just be referred to as the First Alpha’s mate, but betas had never been treated badly in Jared’s kingdom. They just never ruled. Forgive Jared for not thinking that was the height of injustice. It wasn’t as if omegas really got to rule either. Alphas were the ones with all the power.  

 

“I trust that now you’ve seen them, your curiosity is satisfied?” King-Consort Gilbert’s eyes warned Jared to step carefully here.

 

He’d prepared for this moment, though. “It was wonderful to see more of your incredible kingdom. Burnsley seemed to get a lot more rain than the capital, whereas most of Alyonis experiences very similar weather.”

 

“Indeed,” Princess Alaina said lightly. “I’d always wondered how cold your winters get.”

 

“Colder than yours, and most of our lakes freeze over, but…” Jared glanced at Princess Erica. “I imagine nothing compared to yours.”

 

He doubted that she’d experienced many Montisierre winters, but she seemed pleased to be included in the conversation all the same. “What about summers? We practically become nocturnal here, it’s so hot in the daytime.”

 

Jared laughed. “It’s nowhere near as bad as that for us. We just take the winter blankets off our beds and wear fewer layers. It’s my father’s favourite time of year – his ancestral home is much further north, and he maintains that he could feel the cold winds coming from Montisierre even in summer.”

 

He’d thought carefully over those words, though hopefully it didn’t show. Even if Alyonis no longer mated siblings, part of Jared felt like he was turning his back on tradition by revealing that his parents weren’t related, and resented having to do so. Why should he be less worthy of respect if Samantha and Jeff had been siblings?

 

But they needed an alliance, and knowing that Jared had the same number of grandparents as everyone else sitting around the table might help pave the way.

 

Everybody stared. Princess Erica did too, giving no indication that this wasn’t news to her.

 

King Mitchell’s eyes were wide. “Really? I always thought…” he cleared his throat. “I suppose I never asked… Uh, your sibling marriages have definitely gone out of fashion, then?” He reddened as he spoke.

 

“My parents were the first, but they won’t be the last,” Jared replied blandly.

 

There. Hopefully, that would give them something to think about.  

*

 

“I can’t believe it! Did you hear him? That’s more information than I think Alyonis has ever volunteered… and it happened in _my_ reign!”

 

Jensen nodded, though he didn’t think that his alpha father required a response.

 

“All that in exchange for just getting to see another part of the kingdom… I have to admit, I thought he’d guard Alyonis’ secrets as closely as their omegas guard their virginity.”

 

Jensen fought not let anything show in his expression. Mitchell didn’t seem to notice.

 

“If he wants to travel with you again, you’ll take him, won’t you?”

 

“Of course,” Jensen said, half-thrilled and half-horrified by the possibility. His heart still felt warmed by the memory of how long and candidly they’d spoken, but the trip could have turned out very differently. He didn’t want to have to go through that again.

 

As Jared had requested, Jensen had left out certain details when reporting to his parents, though he hated doing it. He felt it made him look far more of a hero than he really had been. Jared deserved praise too. He had to hear compliments all the time on the subject of his looks, but how often did he receive admiration for his character? 

 

“Gilbert said I was a fool for not sending him straight home… but I _knew_ an omega would be more biddable than an alpha. What else might he tell us, I wonder?” Mitchell’s mind was miles away, gloating over the possibilities. To Jensen’s surprise, when he stood to leave, his father clapped him on the shoulder.

 

“I’m proud of you, son,” he said uncomfortably. “I know it was the terrain he wanted to see, but… you were there too. I’m glad you were.”

 

Jensen walked away, stunned. He’d been dealing with problems around the kingdom for years, striving to match Alaina’s flawless reputation… and he’d never, ever heard those words from either of his parents before.

 

*

 

“You must have been terrified. An alpha like Heyerdahl?” Princess Erica gave a delicate shudder. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere near him.”

 

“It wasn’t so bad,” Jared said, sipping lemonade. He’d happily accepted her invitation to meet again at the same location as before, but now he was regretting that. He hadn’t thought that she’d be so interested in discussing the trip to Burnsley. “Your brother and Prince Jensen were both fearless.”  

 

Princess Erica lowered her own goblet, eyes fixed on his. “Jared – may I call you Jared?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“You can call me Erica too, obviously. I find the conversation flows much faster when we don’t have to use our titles. Jared,” she said again, smiling, “Misha and I tell each other everything.”

 

“… Oh.” Jared should have realised that.

 

“So you can be honest with me.”

 

“There were a few moments when I was scared,” he admitted. He hesitated, but decided to confide in her. “Mostly when he was firing at us with his crossbow. Somehow, being alone with him… I knew that your brother and Prince Jensen would come after me, so I wasn’t as afraid then, but when it was them in danger...” He shivered, in spite of the mild afternoon, and forced a smile. “Still, it all worked out in the end.”

 

Erica stared at him. “Misha might have downplayed that part to me,” she said, in a strangled voice. “A crossbow?”

 

“I’m sure his version’s more accurate than mine,” Jared said hastily. “Omegas scare easily. Alphas are the rational ones.”

 

“Alphas are the stupid ones,” Erica corrected, in a surprisingly loud voice. It was only when a snort sounded behind him that Jared understood.

 

“Tell me what you really think, little sister,” Misha said, amused, behind down to press a kiss to her upturned cheek. The sweetness of the gesture made Jared feel like someone had wrapped their hand around his heart and squeezed. Milo used to act like that around him.

 

Misha glanced over at Jared. “You don’t mind if we join you, do you?” he asked, with a tentative smile.

_We?_ Jared turned around, hopeful, and smiled brightly when he saw that Jensen was there too. “No,” he said, suddenly shy. “I don’t mind.”

 

“Jared was just telling me about the _crossbow_.”

 

Jensen and Misha both froze, and the look Misha turned on Jared was half-startled, half-accusatory.

 

“I…” Jared began, bewildered, but then Jensen snorted and dropped onto the chair beside him.

 

“Let me guess. She tried the, _Misha and I don’t keep secrets,_ didn’t she? I should have warned you to watch out for that.”

 

“Erica!” Misha huffed, shooting Jared an apologetic look.

 

Erica shrugged, and gave Jared a sheepish smile. “Sorry, but you know what it’s like trying to get alphas to talk – it’s easier to get blood from a stone.”    

 

“That doesn’t mean you take the opportunity to manipulate a fellow guest!” Misha snapped.

 

Jared leaned back in his seat, smiling slightly. “I don’t think it required a lot of manipulation – I was pretty easy to fool.”

 

“That shows what a nice person you are,” Misha said. “Erica, on the other hand –”

 

“Thinks she’d like you and Jensen to leave now,” Erica interrupted, but her voice was fond. “I liked it more when Jared and I could talk without alphas hovering over our shoulders.”

 

Jensen half-rose to his feet, green eyes looking particularly soulful, but Misha pushed him back down.

 

“If you think that I’m ever leaving you alone with Jared again,” Misha said easily to his sister, “you’re very much mistaken. You’ll just need to return to complaining about alphas instead of trying to trick him.”

 

Erica tossed her head. “Jared and I have far better topics to discuss than alpha stupidity,” she said loftily. “For instance…” she glanced at him, smiling, but her eyes were tentative. “How many siblings do you have?” 

 

The silence stretched, but Jared wasn’t sure how to break it. Hadn’t his mother even told them that? Surely she’d seen fit to mention it in one of the many letters she and King Mitchell had exchanged over the years? But if she had, wouldn’t the northerners know the answer too? How could Samantha expect to form an alliance if she wasn’t even willing to divulge basic information?

 

But if she hadn’t told them, surely she had her reasons for doing so? What was Jared supposed to say now?

_The truth, Jared_. Milo’s voice was suddenly in his head, loud and clear, exasperated but also filled with affection. _We need the alliance, so they have to know how many of us there are. Make sure to emphasize that I’m the best-looking, and the smartest, and the funniest, and..._

 

Milo would have been joking, but for Jared, it was all true.

 

“I have two, one alpha and one omega,” he said, though they probably could have worked that second part out for themselves. They knew Alyonis intended to send an alpha originally, and he’d been introduced as the eldest omega.

 

“A bit like me, then,” Jensen said softly, watching him closely.

 

“I didn’t know you had an omega sibling, Jen,” Misha said. “It’s very rude of you not to have introduced me after all these years.”

 

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Jared knew what I meant, and you’ll notice I said _a bit,_ not _exactly_.”

 

“Who’s your favourite?” Erica asked.

 

“Erica!” Misha and Jensen said together.

 

“What?” she protested. “It’s a valid question.”

 

“I don’t have a favourite,” Jensen said.

 

“Yes, but only because you don’t like either of them.”

 

Misha seemed more offended than Jensen.  Spluttering, the blue-eyed alpha looked apologetically at Jared. “I’m so sorry about my sister. If it helps to know, we only have one parent in common.”

 

Erica elbowed him. “Now who’s being mean?”  

 

Jared looked between them, startled. He knew Montisierre royal betas mated multiple alphas, but he’d always assumed Misha and Erica were full siblings, they looked so alike.

_They must take after their beta mother,_ he thought, heart clenching. He wondered if Erica remembered her at all.

 

Jensen had been watching him closely. “You knew that polyamory’s legal in Montisierre, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes, but…” Jared glanced hesitantly at Misha and Erica, wondering if it would be rude to comment on their parentage.

 

“Both of our alpha parents died with our beta mother in the massacre,” Erica said quietly.

 

“I’m sorry.” It was woefully inadequate, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Hearing about the culling of Jared’s own family tree might interest them, but he shied away from the thought of sharing that information.

 

There were other details that he could offer, though. “We’re not supposed to have favourites, but my twin would be mine.”

 

Jensen and Misha’s mouths both dropped open.

 

“Oh!” Erica straightened up, eyes wide with delight. “I didn’t know that you had a twin! I would have _loved_ a twin.”

 

Misha wrinkled his nose. “I’m glad that you weren’t – I can barely cope with one of you.” He dodged that time when she tried to elbow him.

 

“Are you identical?” Erica asked eagerly.

 

“No,” Jared said, with a small laugh. He would have loved to have looked more like Milo. “He’s an alpha, so no one’s ever mistaken us for the other.”

 

If he’d thought they’d been surprised before, it was nothing compared to that revelation.

 

“I didn’t even know that twins could be different genders,” Erica breathed. “Were your parents surprised?”

 

“A little. My mother had older sisters who were twins, one alpha and one omega, so it wasn’t uncommon to her, but my father didn’t any twins in his family… or omegas, for that matter.”

 

Erica’s forehead wrinkled. “So he was the first?”

 

“… Ah. No.” Jared could have kicked himself for not thinking to clarify this sooner. “My father’s actually a beta.” 

 

“Wow,” Erica said, stunned. “Your mother really was a trailblazer. To marry outside of the family _and_ to mate a beta…”

 

Jared appreciated her matter-of-fact tone, but it was still hard not to bristle. He resented that they clearly thought his parents’ marriage superior because it fitted more closely with the traditions in their kingdoms than it did with the ones in Alyonis.

 

Of course, when Samantha and Jeff had married, she’d been far down the line of succession… but he wasn’t going to mention that. 

 

“That must have been a shock for him, then,” Jensen said carefully. “To have both twins and an omega when he never expected either…”

 

As far as Jared knew, every healer his parents had consulted had been adamant that House Morgan’s blood would prove dominant, but it was Samantha’s that triumphed in the end.

 

“Alpha-and-omega twins are considered a sign of our Goddess’ favour,” Jared said, “so I think they were shocked but still pleased.”

 

The last word was hard to get out. The moment Jared followed Milo into the world had sealed his parents’ fates, after all. As Jared took his first breath, House Morgan had breathed their last, though none of them knew it yet. Queen Allison had countless descendants, but the blessing of alpha-and-omega twins to a younger alpha of a younger alpha that had dared to wed a beta, and an unrelated one at that… A mistake had been made, and it had to be corrected.

 

Unfortunately for Queen Allison, the Goddess didn’t make mistakes.

 

“Prince Milo’s your twin, then?” Erica asked, waiting for Jared’s nod of confirmation. “And your omega sibling’s younger?”

 

There was curiosity in her voice here too. He supposed it must be strange for them to imagine a family with more omega than alpha children.

 

“That’s right.” Jared half-smiled. “Jake’s three years younger.”

 

Erica glanced at Misha. “I wonder if you’d be less bossy if that was the age gap between us?”

 

Misha rolled his eyes. “Erica and I are six years apart,” he said, for Jared’s benefit. “If we were closer, maybe she’d be less annoying.”

 

That put Misha at almost seven when his parents had died, older than Jared had expected. He was bound to remember something of them, whereas Jared had been three when his ocean of relatives had shrunk to a puddle. He knew them more through portraits and his parents’ memories than anything else.  

 

“Katherine and I are about five years apart,” Jensen said, “but Alaina and I are only two years apart. Three years sounds ideal – some of your interests will still overlap, but you’re not near enough in age to be constantly compared to each other.”

 

Jared couldn’t help filing away the fact that Jensen might want a three-year gap between his children if he had any.

 

“Maybe it depends on the person,” Erica said. “I bet Jared’s nicer to his younger sibling than either of you are to yours.”

 

Jared swallowed down the bitter taste of guilt, laughing as Erica fended off Misha’s attempts to tickle her in revenge.

 

“Is it just Jake who’s younger?” Jensen asked. “Or are you the oldest?”

 

“No, I’m the middle child too,” Jared said, smiling at him. “I’m in the middle with my cousins as well – Justin’s older than Milo and me, and Adrianne’s younger than us but still older than Jake.”

 

It was Adrianne that would want to marry a foreign alpha, not Jake. Jared had better start mentioning her virtues. It wouldn’t be difficult – Adrianne was gorgeous and kind, and certainly wouldn’t make the stupid mistakes that Jared did.

 

She would be delighted with either of the alphas sitting before him. Jared imagined that they’d be equally delighted with her.

 

*

 

Princess Erica watched Prince Jared of Alyonis leave, her brother and Jensen at his side. She thought he was capable of making it back to his room with his handsome guard (she of the long fiery hair) without their help, but she couldn’t blame them for feeling protective.

 

A _crossbow_. Honestly. Misha better not expect to get up to the same adventures in Montisierre. She’d keep him locked in the palace if she had to.

 

Erica glanced one more time at Jared before he vanished out of sight. He really was incredibly beautiful. If she’d been an alpha, she might have tried for him herself…

 

She smiled at the thought. Misha would have throttled her. He’d always been so smooth and confident, her elder brother. At least half of the southern kingdom seemed to be in love with him. It was rather entertaining to watch him trip over his own words (and occasionally feet) when it came to Jared.

 

But it also told her that Jared was different to anyone who had come before. Misha really cared about him.

 

Erica couldn’t help thinking that if she and Jared stood side-by-side, he would practically invite her people to notice how northern she was. Instead of the heir who’d been raised in the Val Deauvin and spoke the southern tongue more fluently than her own native language, she’d undoubtedly be the child of Montisierre, while Jared was the strange and exotic creature from Alyonis. Moreover, as undeniably lovely as Jared was, she didn’t think that he’d upstage her. Not on purpose, anyway. Jared seemed too shy or perhaps too oblivious to his own genetic fortune to become a rival. And, well… He was older than her, but not so much older that they couldn’t relate to one another. Kat and Gilbert were the main non-alpha influences in Erica’s life, and neither were appropriate for an elder sibling. Jared, though… Jared held potential. Erica could see herself growing close to him and confiding in him, and Jared’s own lack of fluency in their language might make her look better…

 

Erica blushed, feeling a flicker of guilt for the thought. Misha’s future mate needed to be based on more than just who Erica could feel superior to, of course. But she couldn’t deny that she felt… anxious at the thought of returning to her home and marrying Misha to one of the northern betas. Someone who’d lived there all their life, who had never had to flee as Erica had done, never had to grow up with strangers… Someone that others might look at and think would make a better ruler than Erica…

 

She told herself that it wouldn’t happen, and that even if it did Misha would never support a coup against her, but she still worried about it. Her uncle, kind and protective, had ruled for almost two decades now – longer, in fact, than her own parents had. Perhaps Montisierre was used to an alpha ruler now. Perhaps they even… preferred it. With both the central and southern kingdoms currently being ruled by alphas, with alphas set to inherit, perhaps her own people had no desire to be the odd ones out…

 

But, even if there were those who would prefer Misha over her, no one would look at Jared, a child of Alyonis with generations of incestuous breeding to his name, and try to put him in Erica’s place. Similar logical applied with Kat too, of course, but Erica worried that her people would look at the two of them and perhaps feel Erica was just as southern as Kat. No one could accuse Erica of being from Alyonis, though. She’d never even seen it. When the ship bringing her to the south had sailed past Alyonis, her wet nurse had supposedly taken her below deck, wary of allowing the land of barbarians to catch even a glimpse of her.

 

Misha had remained where he was, though, staring transfixed at the land. It didn’t surprise her at all. Perhaps a part of him even then had been looking for Jared.

 

Erica shook her head. She’d been reading too many romance novels. More important than any other concern, perhaps, was that Erica was no longer sure that Kat wanted to marry Misha. She wished there was a way to find out, but there was no way to do so without making Kat think that Erica no longer wanted her as a sister-in-law. And she did, of course, but…

 

But if Kat wasn’t happy, then Erica wouldn’t be happy. And, close as she was to Kat, Misha was her brother, and he’d never looked at Kat as he now looked at Jared.

 

Erica breathed out slowly. Jared was twin brother to the future heir of Alyonis. If she wanted an alliance with them, then Jared was the best one to forge it. Besides, she knew what Jared looked like. Perhaps his relatives were equally pretty, but it wouldn’t be the first time a family had produced a beautiful omega when everyone else was ugly. Erica knew what she was getting if she asked for Jared’s hand for Misha.

 

If Misha married Jared, and Erica married Jensen… Though the idea had been floated for as long as any of them could remember, Misha and Kat were still the preferred couple. While the southern kingdom did inheritance by age, it was still odd for them to comprehend an alpha leaving to marry a beta.

 

But if Erica got the second-in-line to Val Deauvin, and Misha got the oldest omega of Alyonis… It would put Montisierre in a strong position. A very strong position.

 

Mind made up, Erica squared her shoulders and silently vowed to do her best to make this a reality.

 

*

 

Hundreds of miles away, in a location even he wasn’t sure of, Crown Alpha-Prince Milo of Alyonis hung from the wall in chains. His lower lip was bleeding and he thought his nose was broken. It hadn’t been too painful a day.

 

There didn’t seem to be a chance of escape. He’d tried several times. His only hope was rescue. What if his parents didn’t come? What if they thought he’d left voluntarily? They might hand his throne straight to Justin and betroth him to Jared. It would solve a lot of problems.

 

Not for Jared, though. Jared had to know he’d never leave him. Milo hadn’t been a very good brother recently but Jared was his twin. Sometimes it felt like he knew Milo better than Milo knew himself.

 

Jared would be looking, Milo was certain of that. He just had to keep himself alive until Jared got here. 

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I'm very sorry for the fact this fic isn't finished. A number of real life issues reared their ugly heads this summer that I was unprepared for, and I wasn't able to spend as much time writing as I wanted. I'm planning to post the rest of the chapters in the next few weeks. 
> 
> Secondly, thank you so, so much to my lovely artist, imogen_lily. I was so thrilled to collaborate with you, and so grateful for the beautiful artwork that you created. Thank you also for coming up with the perfect names for each of the three kingdoms - it feels like they were always meant to be Montisierre, Alyonis, and Val Deauvin. Please find her wonderful work here: https://imogen-lily.livejournal.com/80144.html
> 
> Thirdly, major, major thanks go to my fantastic beta, wolfish_willow. Your enthusiasm and editing helped me out more than I express. The remaining mistakes are most definitely my own!
> 
> Fourthly, thanks so much to wendy for running the amazing Supernatural and J2 Big Bang for yet another year, and for being so understanding about my personal difficulties. 
> 
> Finally, thank you to you, dear reader. I hope that you enjoyed the fic so far.


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